


Arrivals, Departures, Connections

by SassySnowperson (DramaticEntrance)



Series: Airline Pilots AU [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (Chapter by Chapter basis), (because while this fic is tagged with the completed work in mind I'm sure I've forgotten something), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And being ABSOLUTELY HORRIFIED by it, Falling In Love, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Healing, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Pilots, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, Tagged for Endgame Pairings, Widower Luke Skywalker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-02 00:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 83,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20454530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: When Luke Skywalker loses his husband Dak to cancer, he needs his friends to help him through.Wedge Antilles is solid, dependable, and has a scowl that manages to scare most people away. Bodhi Rook is fun, life-loving, and has an irreverence that leads most people to not take him very seriously. They're Luke's best friends. They're the two halves of his support team.They've never met.But as they both circle Luke, their meeting is more and more inevitable. Luke can't help but worry: will they be able to look past their mutual facades?And as the years go on and heartbreak fades, Luke wonders if maybe there's something new waiting for him, too.A story of a decade's worth of grief and healing, love and friendship, and all the messy ways they overlap.A prequel toSix Hours to LaGuardiaandEight Hours to O'Hare.In Progress: Updates about once every two weeks.





	1. Midnight Panic Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> Before we begin, a fair warning: Unlike other WIPs I've posted, I'm still a fair bit away from the end on this one. Life could definitely interfere. However unlike other WIPs I've posted, I've got about a...60k head start on this one? 
> 
> So, yes, it's very long, and it's been getting a bit lonely just writing it for myself and my cheerleaders. 
> 
> Speaking of them: Many thanks to [ANTchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANTchan/) and [RogueShadows](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/) for providing some excellent cheerleading. 
> 
> And many, many thanks to the incomparable [Dolly Bassett](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolly_Bassett/) for plot-breaking, cheerleading, technical assistance, and an excellent beta. 
> 
> Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Dak died on a Tuesday afternoon. Two weeks later—after the funeral, the wake, after the stream of people providing comfort and plates of food and sympathy dwindled—Luke showed up on Bodhi's doorstep. 

Luke was pale and distant. It was the worst Bodhi had ever seen him. Worse than the way he looked when he sat down and told Bodhi that Dak was diagnosed with cancer. Worse than a couple months later, shakily sharing that the chemotherapy wasn't working, the cancer had spread, and now they were just focusing on having as many good days as possible. Even worse the month after that, when he quietly asked if Bodhi could take a couple weeks off flying; the end…it was coming soon. 

Luke had been sad and angry and sad in turn, but he was always full of life, full of spark. Even when joy turned to rage it still burned bright. 

But now, now he just looked empty. It was like Dak had taken a piece of Luke’s soul with him when he had passed. Bodhi could believe it. Dak and Luke had the sort of Love that deserved capital letters. The sort that levied a heavy cost when the bond between them snapped.

"What am I going to do?" Luke asked distantly, once he was in Bodhi's entryway.

Bodhi had no answer for him, but settled him down on the couch regardless. He draped a heavy, dark green blanket around Luke's shoulders, and Luke absently pulled it tight around him. Wrapped up, Luke seemed even more ghost-like. His eyes were sunken, deep bruising showing under them. When was the last time he’d slept? 

Luke didn't seem to have any more words after his plaintive question, sinking back into the couch. Bodhi certainly didn't have the answer, and he wasn't going to make it worse by being one of those sickening well-wishers. Instead, he sat back in the recliner next to the couch, reached for the remote, flicked on the television and paged through the channels, suddenly aware of the potential minefield they presented. 

No love stories. No hospital dramas. Maybe soccer—no, Dak had been an avid fan. Bodhi settled on golf, which he hoped was innocent enough, an eyebrow arched over at Luke. Luke pulled himself out of his exhausted stupor enough to give a small, grateful nod to Bodhi, before shifting his attention to stare blankly at the screen. 

Bodhi picked up a book, half-watched golf, half-read, until he heard steady, even breaths come from Luke. He looked over at his friend, tried to imagine the magnitude of his loss. His mind quickly skittered away from even trying. 

Bodhi loved easily enough, and certainly had more than his fair share of lovers, but he was his own creature, first and foremost. He had never wanted to let one person become a big enough part of his life that their loss would change his so fundamentally.

Right now, that certainly seemed like the right call. It also meant he had no idea how to help Luke, beyond a spot on his couch and simple presence. 

Then again, Luke and Dak had certainly given their couch to Bodhi during enough hard times that Bodhi knew exactly how much it could mean. Their faded floral monstrosity had seen him through more angst than he cared to remember, Luke and Dak puttering about in the background as Bodhi stared at the ceiling and put his life together. 

It was good to return the favor, even if the circumstances couldn't be worse. 

Cookies. Maybe cookies would help. They certainly never made things worse. Bodhi left Luke sleeping on the couch, and moved into the kitchen. It was a small space, everything in New York was small, but Bodhi had made the most of it. He had learned a long time ago that baking could bring some order to a senseless world, and his kitchen reflected that. Quality appliances, everything had its place. It was probably the best-organized space in his house, if not always the neatest. 

Luke slept through Bodhi getting the dough together, when Bodhi went back in to check on him, he had slid down so he was mostly laying on the couch. He looked almost peaceful, and Bodhi didn't have the heart to disturb him. He didn't want to leave him alone in his living room, either. 

Bodhi sighed as he went back to the kitchen and put the dough away, then hunted down a second blanket. At least his recliner was comfortable. 

Bodhi slept more fitfully than Luke, it seemed. Every time he stirred Luke was still solidly asleep on the couch. Bodhi's heart ached in sympathy. He must not have gotten much sleep the last few days. Not that that was a surprise. 

Bodhi finally gave up on sleep in the thin grey hours of pre-dawn. He moved back into the kitchen, started coffee. 

Bodhi wished he hadn't been looking, when Luke woke up. He knew he'd never forget witnessing the exact moment in the slow morning awakening that Luke remembered his husband had died. Luke's eyes went tight and pained, squeezed shut, before he took a deep slow breath and opened them again. 

Though, the slight smile Luke gave when he saw the cup of coffee and fresh-baked cookies made Bodhi glad he had kept watching. 

Luke cleared his throat, took a sip of coffee, then blinked sleepily over at plate of cookies. "Midnight panic cookies? Do I really look that bad?" he asked, a thin attempt at humor in his words. 

Bodhi smiled back. "You look pretty fucking horrible. And they were five-in-the-morning slightly-restless cookies, thank you very much." 

Luke inclined his head. "I stand corrected." 

He hoisted himself up on the couch, grabbing for a cookie and dunking it into his coffee cup. He toasted Bodhi with the cookie, and popped it in his mouth. 

Bodhi stole a cookie off Luke's plate. "Cookies for breakfast. Never a bad plan." 

Luke finished his bite and reached for another. Hand halfway to the plate, he said, "Look at me, Dak's been gone less than a month and already my eating habits have reverted to…" Luke trailed off, losing his thread of good humor. His breathing hitched, and with a ragged gasp he blindly put his coffee mug back down before burying his head in his hands. 

Bodhi quickly got up off the recliner and sat down next to Luke, running his hand over Luke's shoulder, feeling helpless. Luke shook his head, gasping out a choked, "Sorry, I—"

Bodhi shushed him. "It's fine," he murmured, following it with other nonsense until eventually Luke's breathing turned more regular, and he straightened up again, giving Bodhi a weak smile. 

"It surprises me," Luke said, sounding exhausted. "I never know how to handle it." 

Bodhi hugged his arm around Luke's shoulders and tugged. Luke tipped over, laying his head down on Bodhi's shoulder. Bodhi squeezed Luke's bicep. "Pretty sure that's the sort of thing you really, really don't need to apologize for." 

Luke sighed, not quite a noise of agreement or disagreement. More just exhaustion. He didn't pull away, though, and Bodhi was happy to spend some time holding him. He may not know what to say, but Bodhi prided himself on his excellent hugs. 

Still tipped against Bodhi, Luke said, "Sorry for showing up without warning." 

"I wasn't really surprised," Bodhi said. "I mean, not expecting it, but not surprised." 

"The house was just…" Luke pushed up and away, reaching for his coffee cup again. "It's so full of him. And so empty. At the same time. I couldn't…I couldn't stay there."

"My couch is your couch," Bodhi said. 

"Thank you," Luke's tone was genuine. "And believe me I will take you up on that, but…" Luke sighed. "I am going to have to face the house again, sooner or later. Figure out what to do with…all that." 

"What are you thinking?"

Luke took a breath. "I…" he exhaled roughly again, "have no idea." 

Bodhi leaned back against the couch, tucking his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. "You could sell it." 

"No!" Luke said quickly, with more passion in his voice than Bodhi had heard in ages. "I wouldn't…I couldn't. It's _our home_. I'm never selling it." 

Even though Luke was emphatically disagreeing with Bodhi's suggestion, Bodhi was so grateful to hear some _life_ in his voice that he had to stop himself from smiling. "Okay, rent?" 

He felt, more than saw, Luke's head shake. "The idea of having someone else living in it is even worse."

Bodhi hesitated. There was a logical next offer, one that might actually help. The problem was, he would have to do something that he really, really didn't want to do. Bodhi looked around his apartment. It was his comfortable space. He had spent the better part of a decade making it a home. It was the first place he had ever really felt comfortable in his own skin. 

Aside from Luke and Dak's house. And that fact meant that Bodhi _had_ to offer. "I could…move in with you? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if there was—"

Luke cut him off. "I wouldn't do that to you." 

Bodhi rolled his head to the side, looking over at Luke. "I'm offering." 

Luke gave a gentle smile, curling his fingers even more around the mug. "I know. But I also know how much you love this place. I wouldn't…thank you, the offer means a lot. But no." 

Bodhi huffed a sigh of relief, a little more showy than he actually felt. He laid a hand delicately over his heart. "I would have made the sacrifice for you." 

His melodrama paid off when Luke gave a tiny smile. "I know. Thank you." Luke grew thoughtful. "Maybe if I...rearrange some furniture?" 

"Think it would help?" Bodhi asked. 

Luke gave a slight shrug. "I think…help, yes. If things just felt different. Obviously it's not going to—" Luke choked on the words, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Bodhi reached over for Luke, laying a hand on Luke's forearm. "It's going to still hurt. It hurts because it matters." 

Luke shook his head slowly. "I don't know how to do this," he whispered. "I don't know how to live without him." 

There wasn't anything good to say to that, so Bodhi just scooted closer until his shoulder was next to Luke's, letting Luke know that despite his tremendous loss, he wasn't really alone. 

* * *

Bodhi ran his fingers through his hair, surveying Luke's newly reorganized living room. He gave a noisy exhale as he considered the space. The living room had been in shambles, when they had arrived, all the furniture shoved to the side to make room for Dak's hospital bed. The empty space where it used to be felt like an accusation. He and Luke had shuffled everything around, television on a different wall, couch and chairs in a different configuration. It had been hard work.

"I'm going to be sore for a week," Luke groaned, flopping back against the couch and looking around the room, dubious expression on his face. 

Bodhi hoped that the reorganization helped Luke, but right now all he wanted was to escape. The place felt wrong without Dak's bright enthusiasm and easy laugh. Bluntly, it felt haunted. 

Luke finished his own analysis of the newly reorganized room, ending his once-over looking at Bodhi. "I'm thinking…" Luke glanced away, out the window, the pale December light somehow highlighting the shadows under his eyes. "I'm thinking of getting out of here for a bit." 

"Yeah?" Bodhi privately thought that was a good idea. He couldn't see Luke doing well, trapped in this space.

"Wedge is in San Francisco. He mentioned he'd be willing to put me up, after…" Luke's face shuttered. "If I needed a break." 

"Ah, the other best friend shows up." Bodhi kept his tone light, hoping to keep Luke from falling into the lost-blankness of the morning. "I was wondering when he'd make an appearance. He wasn't able to come out for the funeral?" 

"Wedge's sister got married in Belgium. His whole family has been planning this trip for a year. He offered to fly back early, and I thought about delaying the funeral, but..." Luke gave a tired shrug. "Honestly, Wedge got to say his goodbyes when Dak was still well enough to appreciate them. And I've been busy enough with..." Luke swallowed, shaking his head. "I didn't need another body around just to be around. I had plenty of support." 

Luke gave Bodhi a meaningful smile, Bodhi crossed the room until he stood next to Luke, putting his hand on Luke's shoulder. "You did. And still do." 

Luke reached up, patting the hand. "I know. Thank you." 

"Might not be the worst idea for you to get a change of scenery." Bodhi flopped down dramatically next to Luke. "I was going to ask if you wanted me to extend my leave…" 

"No, I know you miss the air. One of us should be flying." Luke sighed. "Wonder how long until they figure I'm fit to fly again." 

Bodhi winced. It seemed cruel, that Luke would be grounded on top of mourning. Though, it made a certain amount of sense. There wasn't room for a breakdown when you were shuttling a 747 full of passengers across the Atlantic. 

"It'll come," Bodhi said reassuring. "Besides, maybe some time off isn't the worst thing? Like you said, go to San Fran, soak up the sun. It's California. There's sun, right?"

Luke tilted his head. "Still pretty far north. Sun's not guaranteed. Warmer than New York, though." 

"I'd take that." 

"It's sounding better and better." Luke scratched his nose, a clear sign he was thinking hard. "I could probably get them to transfer me over to Rogue Air's San Francisco base for a while, be a sim instructor. It could work…" Luke trailed off, giving Bodhi a wry grin. "You going to be okay without me?" 

Bodhi ducked his head, looking up at Luke with big puppy eyes he had years to perfect. "I'll survive. Somehow. Even though you're abandoning me." 

Luke chuckled, and it felt like a victory. 

"Maybe I'll follow you out there," Bodhi said, straightening his back. "I still haven't actually met Wedge." 

"He was at our wedding," Luke said, starting in the patient tones of someone who had tread this ground many, many times before. But then his eyes went distant, and Bodhi watched as Luke's right hand crept over to his left, fingers running over the ring with a distant expression on his face. 

Bodhi reached over and covered both of Luke's hands with his own. "Get out of here. I can keep your plants watered. Go catch your breath."

Luke nodded, still looking off into nothing.

Bodhi squeezed Luke's hands. "Want to go get lunch?"

Luke came back to himself, shaking his head. "No, I have enough leftovers to feed an elephant. I'll be fine. I should call Wedge. Work out logistics. Pack." Each item on the to-do list seemed to settle Luke. 

Luke did better when he had something to do. It was an aspect of Luke's personality Bodhi had never seen before everything with Dak, but…well, this was, by definition, the sort of experience that changed someone. "Okay. I'll be home tonight, okay? After seven or so. You could even take the guest bed this time." 

"Madness," Luke murmured. More clearly, he added, "Thank you."

Bodhi waited until he was two blocks down the street from Luke's house to pull out his phone. Feeling weighty and restless, he dialled up an old friend. 

Cassian answered before the first ring could even finish. "Bodhi. Everything okay?" 

"Everything's fine, Cass. Just left Luke, needed to…process for a bit." 

"How is Luke?" 

Bodhi sighed into the phone, "He's doing okay. As okay as he could be, I guess." 

"And how are you doing?" Cassian asked, worry threading through the words.

Bodhi felt a wry grin on his lips. "As okay as I can be, I guess." He tipped his face back, chasing the sun that weakly shown through the early December clouds. "I'm glad I can be there for him, but it's a lot, you know? I can't fix things. And if I'm not careful I'll get sucked into his grief." 

"You can always come over. It's been a while since we've had a night with you." Cassian said, somehow managing to be sincere, rather than suggestive. "We'd be happy to give you something else to focus on." 

Bodhi hummed thoughtfully. "While that does sound nice, I think that because I'm dealing with marriage emotions, you and Jyn probably wouldn't be the healthiest outlet, you know? Not right now." 

"I can see it. We miss you, though, don't be a stranger." 

"You couldn't get rid of me if you tried. Don't worry about me, I'll probably go out in a couple days, find some nice anonymous stress relief and indulge myself."

"Whatever you need," Cassian said gently. "I'll check in tomorrow. Have you called Rachel?"

Bodhi smiled at the phone. "We're back on weekly sessions. I promise, Cass, I'm taking care of myself." 

Rachel was most definitely not on the list of people Bodhi called for sex. She was his therapist, and had been patiently putting up with his drama for the better part of a decade. He didn't need her regularly, these days, but she always found time in her schedule when he needed a refresher. 

Right now, with his best friend and most steadfast support being eaten by grief, he definitely needed her. Bodhi was determined to be there for Luke, and that meant taking care of himself. 

"Glad to hear it," Cassian said, sounding approving. "Let's schedule a movie night. Some new action movie is out. The one with the guy and the guns."

"That is about ninety percent of all action movies. I'm going to need more to go on."

"Jyn wants to watch it. Please come over so I don't have to pretend to care."

Bodhi laughed. "Sure, let's figure out a night."

Luke wasn't the only person with good people in his life. The conversation meandered a bit longer, New York streets passing beneath his feet as Bodhi reached for and found a measure of peace in the troubling time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one starts pretty heavy, but I promise, the fic doesn't stay here. It's going to be a story about...well, departures, but also arrivals and connections. And in the meantime, thank heavens for good friends.


	2. Decidedly Not-Plant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke spends some time with Wedge.

Wedge opened the door to his apartment. "I'm back." 

The living room was empty, as was the hybrid office/guest room he had put Luke up in. Not bothering to take his coat off, he ducked out onto the back stairs and made his way up to his condo building's rooftop. He paid a hefty fee to keep a corner of the roof to himself, but it was more than worth it to be able to indulge his green thumb. 

He found Luke there, hidden among the leafy greens, laying back on one of the lounge chairs, face turned toward the sun. As Wedge walked over, Luke slowly cracked one eye open. 

"You're in my sun," Luke said.

"You're in a T-shirt." Wedge put as much judgement into his tone as he could manage. 

"Which is fine," Luke reached over, insistently pushing at Wedge's knees, "when I'm in the sunlight." 

Wedge let himself be pushed. "It's cold." 

"San Francisco has ruined you." Luke's did his best to match Wedge's tone, but didn't quite manage it. "You've gone soft in the California climate." 

Wedge flinched. The accusation was accurate. He huddled a little further into his coat as he took the lounge chair next to Luke. "How was work?" Wedge asked. 

Luke smiled. "It was good. Good to feel useful again. Rogue's got some good kids coming up through their San Francisco base." 

Wedge smiled. "You think every young pilot is a good kid." 

Luke made a protesting noise. 

"It's what makes you a good training captain and a lousy judge of character." 

Luke redoubled his protesting noise, mostly for show, slight smile on his face as he glanced over at Wedge. "And I suppose Wraith Air's training pilot corp are all feckless layabouts?" 

"Oh no, they are dedicated and diligent. But not because they're good people. Because they're scared of me." Wedge smiled, full of teeth. 

Luke shook his head. "Dragon of Wraith Air." 

"Nobody calls me that." 

"Everybody calls you that. And you love it, don't lie. You have been trying since tenth grade to cow everyone around you into intimidated obedience through sheer power of grump. You've finally succeeded." 

Wedge chuckled. "You might be right," he allowed, settling back against the lounge chair. It was nice to find Luke in a good mood. Wedge was…not the best at emotional expression, and certainly not the person anyone was going to turn to for coddling. Still, he did his best, taking Luke out on distracting trips around the city, making sure he was fed and watered and spent enough time in the sun. 

Much like his garden, Wedge realized in amusement. Well, aside from the trips bit. 

Well, despite being decidedly not-plant, Luke still seemed to respond well enough to Wedge's care. Wedge didn't know how to touch Luke's sorrow, so he didn't even try. Luke didn't seem to need it. Whatever he was feeling, he was feeling. Wedge could help with the rest. 

But even though he knew he could take no credit for it, he still enjoyed Luke's good mood. Luke had always been the most relentlessly positive person Wedge knew. It was good to know that the brightness was tempered, not snuffed. 

They talked a little longer, in the sun and the green, about Luke's day and his plans for managing the simulators. They talked about their own training, together in Rogue Air, before Wedge had jumped bases and airlines chasing a significant promotion. 

Eventually, the chill in the air irritated Wedge enough that he made his way inside, promising pasta in the next half an hour. Luke waved him off, no teasing aside from a knowing smile. Of course, with two decades of friendship behind them, that knowing smile more than did the job. 

Twenty minutes later, Luke made his way back in, helping set the table as Wedge finished the pasta. Wedge mused that Luke being around was good for him; he usually ate dinner while staring at his laptop. It was a good reminder to make an occasion of things. 

Wedge stared down at the bowl he'd pulled out of the cabinet to ladle the pasta into, ache in his chest as he realized that Luke was well used to eating in company, but now he'd be navigating singledom the same as Wedge. 

Wedge numbly went through the motions of scooping the pasta out of the pot. It wasn't fair. Romance was a joke and love was a sham unless you got once-in-a-lifetime lucky. Wedge hadn't, but Luke had. Luke and Dak's love was the one thing that had kept Wedge's pessimism about relationships in check. Of course Dak would be the one to get fucking cancer. Of course Luke would be left alone. The universe loved to destroy beautiful things. 

Wedge checked his face, shoving the anger back down into his chest before carrying the bowls over to the table. Luke didn't need to carry Wedge's anger on top of his own. 

As they settled down, Luke sighed, a shadow drawing over his face. Wedge hoped his own dark thoughts hadn't soured Luke. 

"It was a good day today," Luke said, sounding sad. "I feel like I shouldn't be allowed to have those, anymore. For two or three hours I forgot—" Luke buried his head in his hands, hunching over the table. 

Wedge scooted his chair closer to Luke, rubbed his hand along Luke's shoulders. "Dak wouldn't want—"

"I know," Luke snarled. Wedge pulled his hand back, surprised by the sudden anger. "I know Dak would want me to be happy and move on, but you know what, Wedge? He's not _here_. Maybe if he wanted a say in how I live my life _he should have stuck around!_" 

Wedge started, "I didn't mean—"

"Oh god." All the anger left Luke at once, leaving him looking gaunt and empty. "I'm sorry. I just—I can't." Luke's chair clattered as he shoved back from the table, and a moment later Wedge heard the door to the guest room slam shut. 

Wedge stared down at his bowl of pasta. He didn't have much of an appetite, anymore.

* * *

The clock shone out in the dark apartment, it's glowing green face announcing it was 11:48pm, when Wedge looked up from his laptop and found Luke emerging from his room. His eyes were red and he was wearing his pajamas and a sheepish expression. 

Wedge tucked his laptop away and stood up from the couch. "Want your leftovers reheated?" 

"I can—" 

Wedge jerked his head for Luke to follow as he made his way back to the kitchen. "Figure out if you want anything to drink, I'll get the pasta."

"Wedge, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…you didn't deserve that." 

Wedge opened the fridge and started rummaging. One nice thing about Luke shutting himself away for hours, Wedge had some time to figure out his response. "Remember when The Bastard cheated on me?"

Luke's tone went confused, but there was still impressive ice in his voice when he said, "Yes." 

"And then," Wedge kicked the door shut with his foot, hands full of pasta, "you and Dak came over, and you brought Chinese food, and you never once said that you always knew he was trouble and had, in fact, warned me repeatedly about him." 

"I wouldn't have—" 

"I know." He paused to put the two bowls of pasta in the microwave. "And then despite you generally being the most gracious a human being possibly could be in that circumstance, I still snarled at you and told you stop rubbing your perfect fucking relationship in my face and get out." 

Wedge turned to Luke and raised an eyebrow. Luke shifted. "You didn't mean it, you apologized right after, besides, you were hurting…" Luke trailed off. "Fine, I see your point." 

"Yeah." Wedge moved over to the silverware drawer and started rummaging for forks. "So this is like that, but exponentially worse. So you get exponentially more chances to fuck up. Besides—" Wedge closed the drawer with more force than he intended, it slammed shut. The two forks in his right hand clinked as his fists clenched. "It's not fair. It's wrong and you have every right to be pissed." 

Luke made his way across the kitchen, bare feet padding along the linoleum. He pulled the forks out of Wedge's hands, put them by the microwave, and wrapped Wedge up in a hug. "Thank you," Luke whispered next to his ear. 

"Yeah," Wedge said thickly, leaning his chin on Luke's shoulder. "Anytime." 

* * *

"Yes, seriously, I'm hoarse because I went hiking," was what Wedge heard when he entered the condo again. Luke glanced up nodding at him, before turning his attention back to the phone. "There was some screaming." 

Wedge rolled his eyes. So melodramatic. 

Luke laughed into the phone. "Not like that. It was a feature. We went far enough into the preserve that nobody else was around, and we spent some time screaming at the sky. It was cathartic. You should try it." 

Wedge tucked his bag in the bedroom, and came back to the living room in time to hear Luke say, "I mean I guess you should probably wait until the snow melts. I'd feel terrible if you froze to death." 

Wedge gave a wave and headed over into the kitchen, doing his best to tune out Luke's conversation. A few minutes later, Luke made his way into the kitchen too. 

"Sorry about that," Luke said, patting the pocket his phone was tucked in. "Welcome home." 

"Thanks. Was that the Replacement?"

"You know, he calls you the Other Best Friend." 

"I was here first," Wedge grumbled, full of fake bluster. 

"And then you moved away. But yes, that was Bodhi. He seems to be doing well. I don't think he actually believed me about the hiking." 

Wedge shrugged. "His loss. Taco salad for dinner?" 

"Sure. I'll help chop." 

After a few minutes turning vegetables into smaller vegetables, Wedge asked, "So, is New York holding together without you?" 

"Somehow." Luke's chopping paused. "I do miss it. Home."

"Think you're ready to go back?" 

Luke sighed. "No. It's just this miserable knot in my stomach, every time I think about it." 

"I'm in no hurry to get rid of you." 

Luke hummed. "Would you—what if I stayed through winter? I think going back in the spring would be easier. But I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"Spring sounds good. Honestly, Luke, I don't mind the company." Wedge gestured over the lettuce with his knife. "You're good for my eating habits."

"Glad I can be of some use." Luke paused. "You know, with how much time we live in hotel rooms around the world, you would think that an empty house wouldn't be so intimidating." 

"The house isn't supposed to be empty." 

"Yeah." Luke sighed. "Got it in one." 

"You've got a lot of support out there, though. You wouldn't really be alone. I mean, the Repl—"

"Wedge." 

"_Bodhi_ has called, what, every other day since you showed up? You've got Leia and Han too, Arturo and…I can never remember his husband's name." 

"Threep. If he's got another name I don't know it." Luke sighed. "You're right. I'm luckier than a lot of other people in this situation." 

"I wouldn't call it lucky. You're good at building relationships. Being alone is going to suck but you've got the tools to handle it."

Luke went quiet for a while. When he finally spoke again, it was to ask, "How are you doing? Do you get lonely?" 

"You don't need to worry about me," Wedge said, surge of fondness running through him. "I'm settled here."

"That wasn't what I asked," Luke said, sounding just as affectionate in return. "And I'm not just asking because I'm worried. In a lot of ways, I'm going to have to build my whole life over again. You're the person I know that's come the closest to doing that." 

Wedge nodded, letting the gravity of that hit him. He thought for a moment, before answering honestly, "I get lonely. But it's not the worst thing. I've gotten to know myself better. I think I've learned to be more comfortable with myself too. It's not fun, but it's not the end of the world, either." 

"Dak and I got together so young. He's shaped so much of who I am as an adult. I don't know who I'm going to be without him." 

"You'll learn." Wedge made a face at the lettuce. That had come out harsher than he had intended. He tried again. "You're going to be okay. It's going to be awful, and lonely, and painful, and you are going to be okay." 

"Yes," Luke said, something determined creeping into his tone. "I am." 

* * *

Luke blinked down at the cake. "Seriously?" 

"What, poor taste?" Bodhi had an incorrigible smile on his face, grinning easily over at Luke from the doorframe, as he offered the cake out in front of him. 

Luke bit his lip, stifling a smile as he looked at the cake. 'Congratulations On Being Sane Enough' was blazoned across the top of it, small frosting airplane underneath it, a looping blue line trailing out behind the plane to underline the words. 

"It's certainly...distinct," Luke tried, diplomatically, as he waved Bodhi inside. 

Bodhi walked through the front room to the dining room table, setting the cake down. "My first version was 'Congrats On Fooling The Psychiatrist' but I decided I had more faith in you than that."

"I'm so glad," Luke said, his voice a little strangled from trying not to laugh. Or cry. He really wasn't sure which. He followed Bodhi over to the table, moving over the kitchen to grab some plates. 

"You're going to fly again. It deserved celebrating!" Bodhi threw his hands up in the air, giving them a jazzy wiggle as he smiled over at Luke. 

Luke couldn't hold his laugh in any longer. Bodhi looked triumphant. "And this is the quality stuff, too." 

"Homemade?" Luke asked, setting the plates down on the table.

Bodhi shook his head. "I'm more of a cookies and muffins guy—no, this is a cake made by some lady named Griselda, who sells them out of the back of a truck." 

"Um." Luke regarded the cake with more suspicion. 

"It's like a comet, or something that only comes around every few years. There's a whole blog dedicated to Griselda sightings, and when she shows up, you just have to hope you're fast enough. I sprinted down Broadway for this cake, Luke." 

"This city," Luke said, shaking his head. He gave Bodhi a serious look. "I appreciate your sacrifice." 

"New York, New York. It's the best. Come on, dig in." Bodhi offered Luke a fork. 

"Barbarian," Luke chided as he retreated back into the kitchen and returned with a knife and serving spatula. "Treat your truck cake with some respect." 

As Luke carefully sliced the irreverent cake, he had to admit it did look pretty good. He pointedly served a piece to Bodhi on a plate, before digging in to his own slice. 

"Holy…" Luke mumbled, eyes wide, as he took the first bite of cake. 

"I _know_ right?" Bodhi said, who hadn't eaten his yet, waiting on Luke. "It tastes like heaven. Like the Divine Fountain of Creation herself personally crafted this cake and then ordered her messengers to deliver it into the waiting hands of Griselda, his cake prophet."

"Your theology is baffling," Luke said, staring at the cake. "But your cake is _amazing_. Is that a homemade strawberry jam?" 

"It's got to be, nothing from the store tastes this good. And some sort of a lemon curd. I won't even get into the magic that is the frosting." 

Luke shook his head in disbelief. "It's delicious…" Luke mentally weighed the pros and cons of remaining a dignified human being versus the ability to eat this cake again. "...can I have this truck tracking website?" 

Bodhi laughed in triumph. "Yes I'll email it to you," he said, with an impossibly smug grin. 

Luke rolled his eyes. "Thanks." 

"You are welcome." Bodhi's bright grin faded to something more sincere. He leaned, nudging Luke's shoulder with his own. "Seriously, man, it'll be good to have you in the air again. Skies have been a little lonelier without you."

Luke smiled over Bodhi. "Good to be back." 


	3. Terrible Nachos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke isn't ready for some of the questions that come with being single again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Additional Warning: Chapter contains sudden-onsent feelings of anxiety and discomfort, basically a mild panic attack._

Luke settled in the crew room, pulling his paperback out of his flight bag. He was working his way through Agatha Christie's murder mysteries, and the current flight delay was a good excuse to find out if it was the victim's much-younger second wife that had committed the murder. Personally, Luke thought she seemed too obvious. He was betting on the nanny. 

"Um, Captain Skywalker?" 

Luke glanced up, finding one of Rogue Air's newest Captains. He scrambled for a name, he had flown at least one transatlantic hop with the man back when he was a First Officer. Of course, that was a few years ago now. "Good to see you, Ello?" he said, not managing to turn the name into a question.

"Ello Asty!" was the cheerful reply, and Luke breathed a sigh of relief. Ello continued, "I'm sorry, I know you must get this a lot, but I was wondering…"

Luke put the book down and stifled a sigh. He knew what that specific brand of hopeful nervous expression signaled. "Rebel 5257?" he asked, trying to keep the resignation out of his voice.

Ello nodded, slight smile on his face. "Yeah." He held up his hands. "I totally get if you don't want to talk about it, but considering I actually wound up with you in a crew room, I'd kick myself if I didn't ask." 

Luke tucked his book away, shaking his head. "It's fine. What did you want to know?" 

"I mean…" Ello trailed off, before blurting out, "You landed a fucking airplane without a _landing gear_! No injuries worse than some seatbelt bruising! I—what's that like?" 

"Terrifying," Luke answered dryly. 

"You were perfect. God, I've watched that video so many times, you just _nailed it._" Ello paused. "Wait. That's embarrassing. I should not have said that." 

Luke laughed. "Hey, I've got flight videos I've watched too. Just…not that one, for me." 

"Fair, fair." Ello shifted. "You were really scared? Your voice sounded so cool over the radio."

"The trick is to not let the 'oh shit oh shit oh shit' enter your voice. Keep it strictly in here." Luke tapped his chest. "More seriously, I went through the options, we ruled out any other way to get the landing gear down. The options were stay in the sky until we ran out of fuel, or make the best landing we could. It's no choice at all. When it comes to that, you just do what has to be done." 

"It's amazing," Ello said, looking at Luke with unashamed awe. 

Luke bit down an uncomfortable wince at that. He didn't like that sort of look. But that was his problem with his minor brush with celebrity, and not the problem of the pilot next to him, so Luke kept it inside. 

"Um." Nerves swept over Ello's face, competing strangely with the awe. "I was wondering if I could have your number?" 

Luke tipped his head to the side. Luke had no problem mentoring young pilots, but Ello wasn't that far behind Luke in his career. It was an unusual request. 

Luke's lack of answer seemed to get to Ello, because he followed his question with a nervous, "Or, um, give you mine. Trade? I was thinking it…could be nice to do dinner sometime?" 

Ello was trying to ask him out on a date. Offence swept over his skin, leaving angry prickles in its wake. He was married! Everyone at the airline knew he was married! Luke was not the sort of person to cheat on… 

Luke could feel the blood draining out of his face, suddenly lightheaded. He managed a distant, "No," before he stood up quickly, barely remembering to grab his flight bag before he left the crew room. 

Luke was halfway across the airport, pacing through the flow of passengers in a blank panic before he slowed down enough to think. 

He took a few steadying breaths. Okay. Six months. It had been half a year since Dak had died and apparently some higher power had decided it was okay for Luke to be back on the market. Luke's breath came in hitches. He didn't want— 

He wasn't— 

Luke tucked himself into a small, currently unused, terminal seating area. He pulled out his phone and called Bodhi. 

"Hey L—"

"I can't date anyone." 

"Ah…okay." Bodhi paused. "Where is this coming from?" 

"I…" the blind panic had worn off, leaving Luke feeling vaguely embarrassed. "I got asked out on a date."

"Aw." Bodhi sounded like he was stifling amusement. 

Luke bit back the urge to yell at him that it wasn't _funny_ he only wanted one person and that person was _dead_. The urge to cry rose in his chest, hot and furious. It felt horribly disloyal, to even think of being with anyone else. 

He was grateful for his self-control when a minute later Bodhi said, no trace of amusement in his voice, "Yeah, I can see how that would bring stuff up. How are you feeling?"

"Miserable. I don't—I can't—" Luke felt his breathing pick up again. 

"Hey," Bodhi said, his voice soothing, "We're going to be okay. You don't have to date anyone right now. You'll know when you're ready, and it doesn't matter how long it takes." 

"What if I never want it?" 

"Then you never want it." Bodhi answered quickly. "Luke, baby, nobody sets the timing on this aside from you. When people ask, you're allowed to say no." 

"I know." Luke couldn't help the sullen note to his voice. "I just don't want them to ask." 

Bodhi paused, "You and every female friend I have. Bad news, unless you got superpowers I don't know about, you're going to have to deal with people making passes at you. It's up to you how you respond."

Luke took a deep breath, tipping his head back against the top of the chair. "I suppose having a panic attack and wandering through the airport close to tears isn't a viable long term strategy."

There was a choked noise. 

"You're laughing at me." 

"I am not," Bodhi said. "I am not at all laughing at you. I may have come close to…chuckling…at your remarkable phrasing, but I promise, I am not laughing." 

"Uh-huh." Luke leaned forward, curling over on himself. "I just miss Dak." 

All the humor was gone from Bodhi's voice when he said, "I know. He was extraordinary."

Luke wanted to snarl at the past tense. Dak lived so clearly, so brightly, in Luke's mind. In his heart. But Bodhi didn't deserve that. 

"You're at the airport?" Bodhi asked. 

"Yeah. Incoming flight was delayed; crewing are doing the roster shuffle now. I don't know when I'm flying." 

"Luke, I hate to tell you this, but you just ate some terrible nachos." 

"I didn't eat nachos." 

"Darling, listen, it's a shame, but those nachos upset your stomach terribly and you are unable to fly because you need to spend the next twenty-four hours close to a toilet. And you are going to call rostering and tell them that."

"I—I'm fine, Bodhi." 

"Yeah, I know you, you're not. It'll probably blow over in a day or so, you'll spend some time thinking about it, you'll grow as a person, all that miserable rot. But let's not go flying right after a panic attack, hm?"

"It wasn't really a—"

"Luke." 

"...ow. My stomach," Luke said, in a resigned deadpan.

Bodhi laughed. "That's the spirit. Take a day, Luke. Maybe spend some time talking to Dak about this."

Luke blinked at his phone. "That's not a bad idea. How did you know that I…?"

"I eavesdrop."

"Snoop." 

"It's a terrible habit," Bodhi said, sounding unashamed. In a softer voice, Bodhi added, "I talk to him too, you know? Not as much, I'm sure. Usually about you." 

Something warm bloomed in Luke's chest at the idea that Bodhi talked to Dak about him. It was a comforting thought. "Gossip," Luke said, his voice thick with a strange mix of sorrow and joy. 

"I'm the soul of discretion. Dak doesn't count…" Bodhi trailed off. After a moment of silence he said, "I'm in Rio right now, but I'll keep my phone on. Call if you need me." 

"I will." 

After he got off the line with Bodhi, Luke dutifully called crewing and was bitterly amused when his mournful description of food poisoning was met with a, "Yeah, you sound terrible, get out of here." 

He made his way home, opening up the door to the quiet living room. Three months with Wedge, three months living here, and it still felt too-big for just Luke. But as time went on there was a growing comfort about the space. It reminded him of Dak, and as horrible as it was that Dak was gone, remembering Dak was not a bad thing.

Luke paused by a picture hanging in the entryway. Two pictures, technically. In both of them, Luke and Dak were facing each other, holding hands and looking adoring. They were achingly young in the first picture, dressed in ill-fitting suits and beaming in excitement. It was their first wedding. 

A wedding recognized by no authority aside for themselves and their community, but they both agreed that it was real. They'd had a ceremony, exchanged rings, called each other husband, and by their reckoning, they were married. That was enough. 

Still, for all their bluster that they were married in the eyes of everyone who counted, as soon as it was legal in Massachusetts, he and Dak started planning wedding number two. That was the second picture: them, a little older, hypothetically wiser, still as intensely in love as ever. Their suits fit better, and to Luke's eyes Dak had only grown more handsome. 

Luke ran his fingers along the frame of the second picture. "Hey, love. I miss you." He let his eyes fall shut, leaning forward until his forehead found the top of the frame. "Someone asked me out today." 

He didn't hear Dak respond, or anything like that, but he knew Dak well enough that he naturally filled in the other half of the conversation. Delighted laugh, teasing about how he couldn't blame anyone for finding Luke irresistible, a push for more details. 

Luke leaned back, away from the frame, keeping the conversation going as he made his way upstairs to peel his uniform off again. "I was mostly just pissed at him. Poor guy didn't deserve that." Luke paused. "Well, I am still wearing my wedding ring. Maybe he did deserve it." 

The imagined other half of the conversation turned painful. 

Luke closed his eyes. "I know you asked me not to wear it. I know you didn't want me married to a ghost." His fingers found the band, he circled the metal around his ring finger. "But I'm not ready to take it off. I'm sorry. It feels too much like letting you go. I'm not strong enough for that. Not yet."

Luke didn't know what Dak's response to that would have been. By its very nature, that problem had never arisen while Dak was alive. Luke pressed on, "I will, though. I promised, so I will. Just…when I'm ready, okay?" 

That question had never come up either, but Luke figured he knew the answer anyway. Dak had always been patient with him. 

Feeling more settled, Luke tossed a mental 'thank you' in Bodhi's direction for encouraging the talk. Luke threw on some sweatpants, then went back downstairs and grabbed the paperback out of his flight bag, flopping down on the couch to find out whether or not the nanny really had killed the controlling patriarch, or whether it had been the young second wife all along. 


	4. Super Guppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke makes some changes. Good ones, he thinks.

Wedge hesitated as he stared down the short walkway to Luke's row house. He hadn't thought anything of it, when Luke offered to put him up during Wedge's three-day turnaround in New York, but now, faced with the reality of the house were Dak wasn't, it was suddenly uncomfortable to imagine going inside. 

Well, Luke had been living in that house for five months now after leaving Wedge's, and if _Luke_ could get over the missing person, Wedge sure as hell could too. He grit his teeth and walked up the steps to the tiny porch. 

Twenty-three minutes later, Wedge realized the house had stopped feeling strange and had just become the place where his friend lived. Luke treated him to late-night scrambled eggs and bacon, and Wedge passed out soundly five minutes after his head found the guest bed pillow. 

He woke up before Luke and after a moment's rummaging through Luke's key rack, found the spare key and ran out to grab fresh bagels. He returned with the bagels to find Luke putting the coffee on. Luke gave an appreciative nod. "Good idea." 

They ate bagels, and talked aviation, refilling coffee cups until Wedge killed the pot. He turned to find Luke giving him a slight smile. "It's nice to have someone else around. I keep making too much coffee, and I always feel guilty throwing it away." 

"Single cup coffee makers are your friend," Wedge offered. “Or pour over. Quick, good flavor, if you know how to do it.”

Luke gave a considering, "Hm." 

"How is this going?" Wedge asked, gesturing around the house. It wasn't something he'd normally ask, but Luke was the sort who liked talking about difficult things. Strange man. 

"Okay. A bit quiet." That was about what Wedge was expecting. He _wasn't_ expecting Luke's expression to grow slightly embarrassed. "I've been thinking…it might be nice to get a cat?" 

"A….cat?" Wedge gave Luke a considering once-over. "Like...fur and claws? I didn't know you liked cats."

Luke nodded. "We had them growing up. I realized it might be nice to have something alive in the house." 

"You fly longhaul," Wedge felt obliged to point out. "You have a plan for what happens when you're gone for a few days in a row?" That was the main reason Wedge had never gotten a dog. He'd love having one, but whenever he really considered having one in his life, he found he couldn't justify how long the dog would be stuck by itself. 

A cat though…maybe Luke was on to something. 

"Artu said he'd look after it, if I upgraded my internet package and gave him the Wifi password. He says he gets pretty good signal as it is in the right half of his house." Luke gestured over to the wall his home shared with his next-door-neighbor.

"Not a bad deal." 

"Not at all, considering I'm pretty sure Artu could hack any router I bought anyway." 

"So why haven't you got one yet?" 

Luke shrugged. "Never seemed like the right time." 

Wedge gave Luke a considering once-over. "You know what?" 

"Hm?"

"I think we should go to the animal shelter today." 

"Really?" The way Luke's eyes lit up, Wedge felt like he had just given Luke some over-the-top indulgence, like a new car, or something similarly ridiculous. He must really want that cat. 

"Sure. It's always nice to go say hi to some animals. I like dogs." 

Luke smiled, shaking his head. "You sound more and more like your mom in your old age." 

"I'm _mid-thirties_, same as you." Wedge rolled his eyes. 

"Dogs...gardening…" Luke continued, undaunted. 

Wedge huffed. "Go shower so we can get you a cat." 

"Let me know when you get one of those elaborate Christmas villages." Luke grinned as he started to make his way up the stairs to his bathroom. "Then we'll know you're doomed." 

* * *

Penelope, a cheerful yorkshire terrier, wiggled her entire body in her excitement to try to get at Wedge through the mesh at the front of her crate. Wedge smiled, crouching down to hold the back of his hand up to the mesh, where it was enthusiastically snuffled. 

"Are you interested in a dog?" someone asked from behind him. Wedge turned and found it belonged to a woman, probably in her mid-fifties, with faded green hair. She carried with her an air of contentment, that he figured came from finding employment at a place that let her both have mint hair and regularly interact with dogs.

Wedge shook his head. "No, my friend is here for a cat, I just snuck off to hang out with the dogs for a bit." 

The lady gave a serious nod. A beat later she leaned in, conspiratorial. "Wanna play with her anyway?" 

Wedge hesitated, but in the end, decided his self control could take a brief vacation. "Yes." 

Luke found him in a small visitation yard, indulging Penelope with a game of fetch. She was as thrilled at ball throw number twenty-seven as she had been at number one. Wedge had been counting. He looked up from the game, sheepishly realizing he was covered in wiry white hair. "...hey."

"I think I found a winner. They're processing the paperwork now." Luke glanced down at the dog which, thrilled by the new person, had started running circles around his feet. "Excitable little thing, isn't she. Trying to figure out how to smuggle her back to California with you?"

Wedge shook his head a little regretfully, as he reached down and scooped up the tiny dog. "No. She's friendly, little, and cute. She'll be adopted inside of a week, probably. I'd want one of the bigger ones. Harder to adopt." 

"Aw, yeah, I can see it." Luke reached out and pet one of her ears. "She's so small." 

"Probably still bigger than the cat." Wedge said, moving to take Penelope back inside. 

Luke let out a dubious, "Eh." 

"...Luke, how big is this cat?" 

* * *

"I'm going to call her Super Guppy," Luke said, cuddling the Cat that Ate an Elephant. 

Super Guppy let out a slow yawn, her massive mouth stretching wide. "Of course you are," Wedge said distantly. "I thought you wanted a cat, not a mountain lion."

"She's a Maine Coon. They're sociable, playful, and gentle," Luke said, with all the moral superiority of someone who had learned a fact half an hour earlier and was now reciting it rote. 

Watching Luke with his new cat was...well, Wedge supposed other people would call it something like, 'adorable,' or, 'sweet,' but he found he was more inclined to say simply, 'good.'

It was good, to see Luke excited, to see him researching pet foods and testing pet beds. Good to see his face light up when he flicked a feather dancer around the room, watching Super Guppy's butt wiggle before ferociously pouncing. And it was very good to watch as his cat, after three minutes of play, gave up on the toy, murrped and rammed her face against his shins. Luke's face went entirely soft, as he picked her up into his lap.

Wedge looked at Luke, cuddling his cat and stroking her fur, and found he was a little less worried for his old friend.

* * *

Well, of all the ways Bodhi Rook had expected to die, he had to say, being eaten by a monster had not been high on the list. Until now.

The monster was fluffy, and wearing a jjngly bell. Luke cooed and it trotted over for petting. 

"That's…it's new, right?"

"_She_ has been living here for just over a month. Got her from the humane society."

"Huh. Ah!" Bodhi flinched as she turned her big carnivore eyes on him and started to prowl forward. "Luke…" Bodhi braced for the worst.

The apex predator rubbed her cheek against his shoe. Bodhi sighed in relief.

Luke chuckled gently. "Not a cat person?"

"Cats are fine." Bodhi considered the mass of fur at his feet. "I'm just not convinced that is a cat."

"Don't listen to him, Gup." Luke bent down and opened his arms. Bodhi blinked in amazement as the creature went up on its hind paws, entirely happy when Luke picked it up and settled to be settled on his shoulder.

"You named your carnivore Gup?" Bodhi couldn't help but ask.

"Short for Super Guppy."

Bodhi groaned. Of course Luke would name his monster cat after a giant aircraft. A reluctant laugh was dragged out of him. "Luke, you _nerd._"

Luke grinned. "I knew you'd say that." 

"Yeah, yeah," Bodhi reached forward, hoping this wasn't the end of his fingers. Gup ran her cheek along his fingers, guiding Bodhi's hand to under her chin. "Alright, I guess she is pretty cute. So what brought this on?"

"The house was quiet, I thought having an animal in it might help. I figured Gup would be independent enough to not fuss when I flew." 

"Is it working?" 

"Yeah, two day turnaround in Delhi, she was still happy to see me when I got back." Luke reached up to scratch Gup on the head. "It was really nice to not come back to an empty house." 

"I'll bet." Whenever Bodhi felt that particular itch of loneliness, he went out. Club, bar, concert, show, anything to get out into humanity. Pretty good odds, that by the end of the night, he'd have someone to go home with. 

He could see how that solution wouldn't really work for Luke. For one, he was emphatically not ready to go back into the dating game. For another, he could be rather…boring. Bodhi loved him, but Luke was not the sort of person you'd take clubbing. 

Big cats and murder mysteries. Sure. That seemed about right. 

"She's decent looking home protection, too," Bodhi decided. "I know I'd think twice if I had to rob the place and found that thing waiting for me."

Luke chuckled. "Wedge said the same thing." 

"Wait, Wedge saw her before I did? Luke, I'm insulted. If you were sending pictures I should have been first on the list."

"Wedge dragged me to the animal shelter." Luke pet the cat a few more times before informing her, "Okay, you're getting heavy." 

"He was out here?" Bodhi tilted his head. "He's not still out, is he?" 

"Why do you ask?" Luke said, futilely trying to gently set the cat down. She seemed very happy on that shoulder. 

"It could be interesting to meet the Other Best Friend, you know?"

"You were both at—"

"There were a lot of people at that wedding, Luke. Not to mention the open bar. And, no, we haven't gone on the yearly ski trip together. I checked. We keep missing each other...are you trying to keep us apart?"

"No!" Luke protested, leaning forward even further. Gup still refused to move.

"Do you...need help escaping that?" 

"I got it." Luke leaned forward, nudging the cat's paws. "And while, no, I'm not trying to keep you apart, he did head back to San Francisco already." 

"Drat." Bodhi snapped his fingers. "Are you sure you don't…" 

Luke finally leaned forward far enough that the cat twisted and jumped. He gave a slight 'oof' as Gup used his stomach as a launching pad. "We're still working on that," he said, a little breathlessly, slight smile up at Bodhi. 

A warmth sparked in Bodhi's chest as he returned Luke's smile. He hadn't quite realized how much he had missed that, being able to see Luke smile without pain. The pain would come back, of course, but it was good to have the moment. 

Luke straightened, brushing his sweater off. "Anyway, let me go get changed, and then we can go mix." 

"I keep telling you, you can't use 'mix' as the verb for what you do at a mixer," Bodhi called after Luke as he ascended the stairs. 

Gup gave Bodhi a predatory look. Bodhi edged towards the base of the stairs. She was cute, but he didn't trust her. 

"What else do you do at a mixer?" Luke called back down, happy enough to engage in the banter they'd had at least five times before. "It's the best verb." 

"That's what the word mingle is for." 

"Then it should…" Luke's voice was muffled for a second as he negotiated clothing. "...a mingler." 

"Mingler is a terrible word and I shudder each time you say it." 

Gup hopped off the couch and started padding towards the stairs. Bodhi froze against the wall. She gave him an imperious glare and trotted past him, up to the bedroom.

Probably unaware that his cat was terrorizing poor innocent guests, Luke argued, "I'm not arguing with you on that, but that's why we're going to mix. Because it's a mixer."

Bodhi didn't relax until Gup was three-quarters of the way up the stairs. Belatedly, he called, "No." 

It wasn't his most eloquent of comebacks, but he was currently Perturbed by Cat. 

Fortunately, Luke's next line was, "Aw, hey girl!" so at least the cat proved to be an equal-opportunity distraction. 

Not too much later Luke came trotting down the stairs, looking sharp in a pale blue sweater and dark jeans. Bodhi told him as much. 

Luke's smile had some pain in it, this time. "Dak always liked this color on me. When I saw it in the store, I just felt the need to pick it up."

Bodhi nodded. "I can see why. Brings out your eyes." Bodhi gave an overdramatic grumble. "I'm going to have to cockblock at least three overeager colleagues from making a pass at you tonight." 

He watched to see how the comment would land. Luke still had no interest in romance, as near as Bodhi could tell; that didn't mean that people weren't interested in him. The attention that he had been able to shrug off easily when Dak was his husband sat heavier on his shoulders now. 

Bodhi was relieved when Luke's reaction was just a slight quirk of his lips and a shaken head. "I'd offer to change, but the sweater is too comfortable." 

Bodhi gave a solemn nod. "I guess I'll just have to throw myself between you and them, and soak up their affections myself." 

"What a hardship." The dryness in Luke's voice could turn a swamp into a desert. "However shall you manage." 

Bodhi winked. "It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." 

"Just remember, as soon as you drag one off to the nearest closet, you're leaving me defenseless." 

"Are you saying I need to drag more than one into the closet at a time?" Bodhi grinned. "Luke, suggesting an _orgy_?" 

"I was not—"

"At a company mixer?" He poured on the fake outrage. "Darling, you're more brazen than I'd thought." 

"Don't put words in my mouth," Luke said, rapidly turning pink. 

"Luke, your problem is, you've got too many rules. You've got to relax a bit, or your spine will freeze that way." Bodhi prodded at his shoulders. "However, in deference to your puritanical values, I will keep it down to a respectable ménage à trois." 

"You're too kind," Luke said, sounding a little strained. "What would I do without you?"

"Your life would be so boring," Bodhi said with a grin. 

"True enough," Luke allowed, inclining his head. "Come on, let's go mix."

* * *

There were a few horrible anniversaries, next to each other. 

October, Dak's birthday, he was so close to being a Halloween baby, and always regretted missing it. Luke went for a drive to Dak's favorite stretch of beach, spent some time remembering him while looking out over the waves. He considered the ring on his hand and debated taking it off as a gift to Dak. But it would be a bitter gift, at this point, so he ran his thumb over the band and stared out at the waves.

November, their wedding anniversary, it had been the most beautiful crisp day, and this year's morning dawned just the same as that day twelve years ago. Luke felt the day like a knife. They always said, getting married so young, that they'd get to spend most of their lives together. They'd been wrong. Luke spent the day curled in bed, Gup a reassuring warmth along his back, unable to imagine a future where he didn't wear Dak's ring.

And then, early December, and Dak had been gone for a year. Leia went with him to the graveyard, they had a picnic. Luke wound up with his head in Leia's lap, her fingers combing through his hair. He had always been the more cuddly out of the two of them, but she was good about indulging him when he needed it. He needed it now.

"It's been awful, without you," Luke told the gravestone seriously. 

"We're taking care of him, though," Leia added, pressing her hand firmly against his hair, nearly cupping the side of his head. "He's not alone." 

Luke smiled. Hearing unsentimental Leia indulge his habit of talking to Dak meant more than he could find words for. "I'm not," he settled on saying instead. "And there have been some not-awful parts in the middle." 

Luke sat back up, lifting his head out of Leia's lap. "You know about Gup, of course. Flying's been good. Spent some time in San Francisco." Luke reached up and patted the gravestone. His eyes caught the gold band across his finger. "Still haven't managed to take your ring off. Working on it." 

"He'll do it when he's ready and not a moment sooner," Leia snapped. 

Luke gave the stone a wry grin. Good to know Leia's fierce defense of her brother remained one of life's constants. He was lucky to have her. And she was right, the ring would come off when he was ready. 

In the end, though, it wasn't an important anniversary, it was just a really good day. 

Late April, and despite the wind that licked through the city, Luke had a gorgeous landing, the Dreamliner buttering onto the tarmac, her great weight settling back to earth softly. He strolled along sidewalks, smiling to see stubborn green poking up through sidewalk cracks. Spring wasn't here yet, but the air hung heavy with the promise of its coming. 

Gup had murrped her way up to him happily when he came through the door. He took some time to get settled, then made some dinner. Thanks to Bodhi's coaching, he had some bread dough waiting in the fridge, and the smell of fresh rolls wafted through the kitchen as he sauteed some chicken. Artu and Threep joined him, they talked musicals and praised the white-wine sauce Luke had managed. 

They left around nine, he read until ten, and at ten-fifteen, with very little ceremony, Luke slid his ring off his finger. 

Luke stared at the skin, finding a clear imprint of where the ring used to be, a bleached negative on his sun-tanned hands. The sun above the clouds was a particularly jealous companion, it had spent years kissing its way along Luke's skin, darkening everything that wasn't covered. Luke ran his thumb over the pale divot, smiling slightly. 

He untucked the necklace that hung under his shirt, one gold band already dangling from it. Luke smiled as he unhooked the clasp and settled his ring next to Dak's. He felt lighter as he tucked the chain back around his neck, smiling as he went over to the pair of photographs. He stroked his thumb along the frame that held the image of his and Dak's younger selves. 

"You left your mark on me after all." Luke said, smiling down at the pale strip of skin. "This seems like a good compromise." 

A very good compromise, said that echoing memory of Dak. Luke patted the rings under his shirt, and feeling strangely happy, went up to bed. 


	5. A Protagonist for This Sort of Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new relationship was still...not anywhere on Luke's radar. But maybe not impossible. Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so, you know how the fic is rated E? And also "Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags" is a tag? 
> 
> Both of those things become relevant this chapter so...you know...just a heads up :) 
> 
> Also, since I'm actually writing an authors note this chapter, it's a good time to thank [Dolly Bassett](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolly_Bassett/) for her ongoing and excellent beta :D

Luke woke up aching, his cock hard against his stomach. He sighed in frustration, swinging the sheets aside as he stalked out of bed. His dick bobbed as he made his way to the bathroom, perked up and refusing to soften.

It was better than the wet dreams, at least. Those were just embarrassing, waking up sticky and needing to change the sheets like he was still sixteen with runaway hormones. 

His libido was coming back to life again. It had tanked during Dak's last days, sex becoming secondary to all the other ways to enjoy his husband. He was still hungry for Dak, but hungry for words, for presence. After Dak had died… 

Well, the near panic attack brought on by an invitation to dinner pretty much spoke for itself. But it had been nearly two years now, and Luke was finding his reactions were changing. Ezra, the cabin supervisor on the last flight, had given Luke's shoulder a slightly lingering squeeze when he delivered dinner. Ezra was friendly, and handsome, and about Luke's age. Still, that didn't justify the wild urge to pull Ezra into his lap that had surged through Luke's limbs. 

It was so _strange_ to get these reactions again. They were all the stronger for his lack of practice in controlling them. And the lack of outlet. 

The actual thought of finding a romantic partner was still…too much. But not impossible. Not any longer. 

Luke stepped into the shower, and let the hot water cascade over his shoulders. His erection still refused to settle, stubbornly persisting the whole time Luke went through the steps of shampoo and conditioning. 

He looked down at it. There was a tightness in his belly and a tension in his veins that screamed for attention and release. What would it hurt?

Fingers still slick with conditioner, Luke fisted his hand around his cock and slowly thrust into the tight, slick space. For a moment, there was just the electric shiver of pleasure. Then, hesitantly, his mind offered up the image of Ezra smiling, looking up at Luke through his messy blue-black fringe. 

Luke shuddered and started moving his fist, slow at first, then faster. Ezra was on his knees now. Now his mouth was open and wrapping around Luke's cock— 

Luke came with a gasp, his hand wringing the last rush of pleasure from his orgasm. Slowly, his mental image dissolved as the moment faded. Once again he was in his shower, feeling loose and relaxed in a way he hadn't in a long time.

Luke braced for the guilt. He had just jerked off thinking about someone who wasn't Dak. Someone he worked with. But the guilt refused to come. Dak hadn't wanted Luke to be alone, and he was hardly harming Ezra by summoning his image in the shower. 

So, he had masturbated and didn't feel terribly guilty about it. That was a milestone Luke had absolutely no intention of sharing with anyone else. He could just imagine the embarrassed, awkward stares.

…well, okay, Bodhi wouldn't be embarrassed or awkward. He'd probably buy Luke a cake intended for a bachelorette party, something large and penis-shaped, with lots of buttercream frosting splurting out the top. In that exchange, Luke definitely wound up being the embarrassed one.

He'd just keep this to himself for now.

* * *

The horrible anniversary gauntlet came, and any newfound…interests were largely forgotten. It was hard to even notice his gradually restarting sex drive when he was pummeled, over and over, by how much he had lost. 

He was a little better prepared this time, he made sure he was in San Francisco around Dak's birthday, he and Wedge went to a park Dak had loved, strolling around the paths and feeding the geese, who were terrifying, but Dak had always carried some baby carrots for them.

"They should be meat-eaters," Wedge said, chucking a carrot in their direction with trepidation. 

"I'm not convinced they aren't. I love Dak, but he had some strange ideas about birds." A goose flapped its wings ominously at him, and he quickly offered another carrot to pacify the beast. "I think, if we back away slowly and feed them the entire time, we might get out of here alive."

"If they charge, go for the neck," was Wedge's opinion, as they slowly extricated themselves from the hazardous wildlife. 

Luke had planned to get out on his wedding anniversary, scheduling a movie night with Bodhi and Jyn and Cassian. He had to cancel, though, and spent the day curled in bed again, clutching the pair of rings close to his chest. Gup had curled up to his belly and purred reassuringly, and somehow he got through the day.

Bodhi, bless him, had come over the next day, bullied Luke out of bed and into the shower. 

"Alright, you had your day to mope. LeFrak Center has curling lessons today, I've signed us up, no arguments." 

And then it was early December, and Dak had been gone two years. The picnic at the graveside had grown, Han joining Leia, a few of Dak's engineering friends stopping by, it was almost festive. They mourned Dak's death, yes, but they also celebrated his life. Luke left the grave feeling lighter. 

The New York winter did its best to steal that peace from him. Luke clung to it stubbornly, fighting his way through the dark months. He picked up more flights to warm places, layovers in Santiago and Delhi and Sydney doing wonders for his spirit. When he was home, he made sure he didn't turn entirely into a hermit.

Which is how he found himself in early January, huddled by a local pub's large fireplace, listening to Bodhi tell a story. Listening and watching, really; Bodhi's storytelling was a full-body experience. 

"Oh, god, it was terrible!" Bodhi said gesturing with his fork expansively, a delighted smile on his face. "By that point half the crew was in the pool, fully-clothed and fully-drunk, playing the sort of game only the severely intoxicated could dream up—it was like foosball but with a water hazard." 

"That seems dangerous." Luke picked over the dregs of his shepherd's pie, striving for disapproving, but mostly fighting the urge to laugh. 

"Eh, there were enough only-mildly-tipsy people there that it was safe enough. The biggest danger was to people's phones—three dead by the end of the night." 

"Oh, god." Luke set his fork down, giving up on the potatoes and reaching for his beer bottle. 

"And that's why you should never have a two-day turnaround in The Arse-End of Nowhere, Ohio." Bodhi held up his own bottle, and Luke obliged, reaching forward and clinking his own bottle in a casual toast. Bodhi leaned back, draining the last of his beer. "I think we wound up giving that motel close to a thousand dollar tip between the lot of us, we felt so bad about tearing the place up." 

"And where were you during all of this?" 

"Oh, you know, they had a pool table, and one of the cabin crew wanted to learn some trick shots. I spent the evening teaching her the banana shot."

"That can't be a real trick."

"No it is!" Bodhi's voice rose defensively. He drew an arcing line with his now-empty bottle, "The ball curves like...you know, a banana."

Luke shook his head. "It sounds like a horrible sex euphemism."

Bodhi drew up short, considered, then snorted. "Oh, god, it does. No, Luke, I did not spend the evening teaching the cabin crew a horribly named sex trick."

"For once," Luke bit back reflexively. He stopped, looking up, "Sorry, that was…"

Bodhi waved his hand. "I mean, I definitely did sleep with her. But it was a recreational experience, not an educational one." 

Luke groaned. "Of course. I can't believe that you're completely fine are about sleeping with cabin—" He stopped, a constructed image of Ezra's wicked smile flitting into his mind. It had kept him company in the shower more than once. Luke became uncomfortably aware that he may not have the moral high ground in this conversation. 

"She wanted to, I wanted to," Bodhi said easily, as perfectly content with himself this time as every time before. 

"Yeah…" Luke gestured in what he hoped was a conciliatory manner.

Bodhi paused. "You…doing okay?" 

Luke glanced up. "More or less. Sorry for…" Luke sighed, not finding the words. "Your hookups make you happy. I shouldn't…" he shrugged, hoping Bodhi could fill in some of the words. 

Bodhi's expression grew concerned. "Hey, we've got a routine. You're a little bit judgy and vanilla, I play up the outrageous." Bodhi laid his hand out on the table, palm up. "I'd let you know if it actually bothered me." 

"I know." Luke glanced to the side, chewing his lip. "It's been on my mind lately. That my options are either to figure out how modern dating works and throw myself back into things or just...be alone." 

"You think you might be ready to date?" 

Luke gave a helpless shrug, looking back at Bodhi. "No? Dak and I met in college. I never had to worry about…all that. I have no idea what I'm doing." 

Bodhi gave a slow nod. "But, last time we talked about it, it was a hard no on anything like that. This is sounding more like logistical issues." 

"Logistics…" Luke grabbed at his beer bottle. The barest amount of liquid moved in the bottom of the bottle, but swirling it in sloshing circles gave him something to do with his hands. "It'd need to be the right person, too. I feel like a minefield right now. Calm enough, but if they hit the wrong spot, it'd all coming exploding out. Seems unfair to ask that of anyone."

"So communication is a part of the logistics."

"I don't think it's worth the effort," Luke said wryly. "Much as I appreciate your attempt to problem-solve my celibacy."

"It's your choice. I'm just clarifying what the problem actually is." The look Bodhi gave him was sharp, and Luke felt oddly exposed. "There's a difference between not wanting something and not wanting the effort it takes to get it." 

Luke grunted, turning the bottle over in his hands as he turned the idea over in his mind. "I miss it," he admitted, to himself as much as Bodhi. "I miss sex, I miss having someone around."

Bodhi gave a serious nod. "That's something."

"It is." Luke played with the label of the bottle. "Though, I think I preferred not wanting it. It was easier." 

"Easier?" Bodhi asked. 

Keeping his eyes on the corner of the label he had pried up with his thumbnail was the only thing that allowed Luke to honestly say, "I'm a widow in my late thirties who hasn't had a relationship since my husband died. I'm not exactly anyone's first choice." 

Bodhi didn't say anything, but after a moment his hand reached forward and wrapped around the bottle, taking it away. Luke let it go, his hands hovering aimlessly. He looked at them, feeling wrung out. It was hard enough talking about this with Bodhi. He couldn't imagine having this conversation with someone else.

Bodhi gathered Luke's between his own and squeezed. "Luke," Bodhi said, softly, insistently. 

Luke reluctantly dragged his eyes up to meet Bodhi's gaze. 

Bodhi looked at him seriously. "You are one of the finest human beings I know, and if you decide you're willing to do the work to fit someone in your life again, there is going to be someone who fits. I promise." 

Luke gave a half smile. "Thanks." He couldn't quite bring himself to believe it, but Bodhi's certainty did make him feel better. 

Bodhi squeezed Luke's hands again. "And if you decide it's too much work, there's still nothing wrong with the wanting. You're allowed to feel what you're feeling."

Luke raised his eyebrows. "Starting to feel like you're my therapist here." 

"Why thank you, I'm flattered. Therapists give good advice." Bodhi grinned. "But, that brings me to my other two points. You said you're a widow in your late thirties. Luke, we're thirty-seven. We can still claim mid-thirties." 

Luke felt the corners of his mouth turn up, reluctantly. "I think you need to stop kidding yourself."

"Nuh-uh." Bodhi tugged at Luke's hands, pulling him closer. "And let me tell you something else, mid-thirties widow who finds it hard to love again is the plot of fully half of all romance novels. You're a protagonist for this sort of thing, baby." 

Luke couldn't help the laugh that broke out of him. He pointedly pulled his hands back. "You're awful." 

Bodhi winked. "You know it." 

Luke ran both hands through his hair, falling back in the chair with an over-dramatic sigh. He revelled in his grump. He had been spending a lot of time being mature and responsible. It felt good to have a nice sulk. "It's still a long way off. I can't see myself getting into bed with a stranger." 

"Well, if you get there, just remember, you're a catch." Bodhi smiled at him from across the table, looking affectionate. "I won't have you undervaluing yourself." 

Luke raised an eyebrow and shook his head, dismissive. "You're biased. It's like your mom praising your school art. It doesn't count." 

"Oh no," Bodhi said, a strange note to his voice. "Not like your mom at all." 

Bodhi leaned forward slightly, and his affectionate smile changed, sharpening. His eyes grew heavy, half-lidded, his gaze felt like a tangible thing as it raked down Luke's body. A tingling heat bloomed in Luke's belly, sudden nerves sparking and roaming across his tongue. 

"Bodhi…" Luke said, uncertain. 

Bodhi's eyes finished their lazy slide down Luke's torso, flicking up quickly. Luke felt pinned in place by his warm brown eyes, glinting in a way he couldn't remember ever seeing before.

"Remember, I'm something of an expert in the field," Bodhi said, his voice still carrying that strange low note, his eyes never leaving Luke's. He was spark and tinder all in one, all Luke could do was burn. Bodhi continued, "And I think you're..." 

Luke's breath was having trouble filling his lungs, going shallower, faster. Bodhi was arresting. Captivating.

Abruptly, all the sensuality fell off Bodhi as he straightened up, folded his hands in front of him, and said, "Very boneable," with an air of good cheer. 

Luke startled, building arousal doused as effectively as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over it. He worked his jaw a couple times, finally managing to say, "What was that?" 

"Just letting myself look for a change." Bodhi ducked his head. Was he embarrassed? "Call it a reminder. Figured that'd stick in your head a little better than just me saying it." 

"A...reminder," Luke said, struggling to hold that concept up against the memory of Bodhi's predatory gaze. 

"And an offer," Bodhi said, cheeks definitely carrying a tinge of pink. "I mean, I already know where the landmines are going to be, right? And you deserve good sex."

He said it so casually, like it was the natural result of the conversation, the only possible conclusion that could be drawn. Luke wanted to throttle him for being so brazen. Either that or shove him against the wall and kiss him until the heat returned. 

"So, as long as you don't have a problem with the fact that I don't do exclusive, I will absolutely sleep with you." Bodhi shrugged. "I get that the best friend thing makes it a little weird. I'm definitely not going to bring this up again. But now you know it's on the table." 

Luke fought for an answer, and settled on a strained, "Thank you." His blood was still thrumming; he felt almost dizzy from the sudden tone shift. "I'll think about it." 

"You do that," Bodhi said gently. After a moment, he said, "Have you ever thought about teaching Gup to play fetch?" 

Luke blinked. Bodhi gave him a patient smile. Luke gave a slight nod, and followed Bodhi to less perilous topics of conversation. "I...haven't. She's a cat." 

True to his word, Bodhi didn't bring it up again. Didn't even hint. His smile stayed unsharp; his eyes remained unhooded. The conversation meandered gently from topic to topic, until it naturally found its way to a goodbye. Same as always. Nothing changed.

Nothing, except the heat that refused to leave Luke's belly, flickering and flaring on his way home. What would Bodhi have done if Luke had leaned in? What if Luke had invited him back here? 

Luke stepped into the entryway, imagining himself dragging Bodhi over the landing, pinning him against the wall. What would Bodhi taste like? What would he feel like? He made his way up his stairs in a daze, his mind filling in filthy whispers and laughing little giggles, hands tugging him along impatiently. 

Luke shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This was...silly. Bodhi was his best friend, and one of the people that kept Luke's life from imploding. He wasn't…that…to Luke. 

_He's someone you trust,_ Luke's mind whispered. _You trust him and he's offering._

Luke firmly pushed those thoughts to the side. He'd think about that…later. 

* * *

It was a lazy morning, which had always been Bodhi's favorite kind. Past noon and he was still in his pajamas, while spanish guitar poured out of his speakers, windows open to let the sun in as he ran a dustrag over the the his bookshelf. 

Bodhi had never really understood cleaning, until he got a space he was proud to own. Something about loving the space transformed it from a chore to an investment in his home. He was halfway through dusting his collection of chef's autobiographies (a surprisingly compelling genre) when his phone rang. 

Bodhi looked down at the ringer. Luke. "Just a sec," he answered, going to turn then off the music. "Hey man, what's up?" 

"Ah…" Luke managed to pack a surprising amount of embarrassment into the syllable. "I have a personal question to ask. Is now a good time?" 

"Of course." Bodhi settled down on his couch, growing more curious by the second. "I was just dusting." 

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "I have to admit, I was sort of hoping that you'd be busy."

"Should I be insulted?" Bodhi asked, stifling chuckles as his curiosity continued to mount. 

"No, it's…remember the pub we went to, at the end of January?" Each word sounded it had to be dragged out of his mouth, kicking and screaming all the way. 

And Bodhi could understand why. Yes, he remembered the pub. More specifically, he remembered the fun of getting a bit predatory with Luke, letting his lust show. Luke had always been worth looking at, but up until now, admiring him hadn't been a decent thing to do. 

Well, Bodhi had to admit, it still wasn't exactly _decent_ but he did think that it helped more than it hurt. Nobody's first choice indeed. Luke needed the reminder that he was still desirable. But that had been five weeks ago, so Bodhi figured that Luke had opted out of the offer. 

But now he was calling…interesting. 

"I remember the pub. We had a nice conversation." Bodhi let the barest hint of suggestion waft into the last two words. 

Luke response was slow, as he deliberately picked through his words. "We did. You know. That. The conversation…" Luke took a breath, and the next bit came so fast that Bodhi almost missed it. "Were you serious?" 

Delight flared in Bodhi's chest. He shushed it down. No point in getting overly excited about things. No telling what Luke actually wanted. He kept himself under control as he said, simply, "Very serious." 

"Okay." Luke didn't really sound surprised. Bodhi supposed that coming from him, a proposition didn't warrant much of a shock. Fair. The surprising part was the next bit, Luke saying, "Because I think…I might be interested. You know. If you still are. But it was a little while ago, and I get it if you only offered to be nice—"

"Luke," Bodhi cut across that ridiculous line of thinking, "trust me. If you hadn't been very taken when we first met, I would have offered a lot sooner." 

There was silence for a long three seconds, before Luke answered, quietly, "Really?"

The surprise was genuine this time. 

Bodhi huffed, "Yeah, come on, I'm not ruled by my cock. I don't just act every time I'm attracted to someone. Making a pass you, all committed and monogamous would have been the worst sort of betrayal of our friendship." Bodhi lowered his voice, hoping the next bit would actually sink in, "But, baby, you have always been really, really fucking pretty." 

Luke spluttered on the other end of the phone, and Bodhi grinned. "What are you doing for dinner tonight?" 

"Tonight? That's…a little fast, I—" 

"We should talk. In person. That's going to be step one." 

"Do I want to know about the rest of the steps?" Luke asked, his voice dry. 

Even though Luke was pitching him a softball, Bodhi fought down the urge to purr something suggestive. As fun as it would be to hear Luke squirm again, they should actually talk seriously. "Figuring out what you're hoping for. Letting you know what's going to work for me. If that matches up well enough, then we talk sex—I really doubt you're going to manage to float anything on my 'no' list, but you never know…and I need to know yours." 

The other end of the phone went silent for a while. "I…I've never had a conversation like that. Da—" Luke cut himself off. 

Bodhi packed as much reassurance into his tone as he could. "You can talk about Dak. This sort of thing, he's going to come up." Bodhi paused for a beat, but Luke still didn't say anything. Bodhi winced, hating to push, but if they didn't get it out of the way now, it'd just fester, "Let me guess, he is, if not your entire sexual experience, the large majority of it." 

"Yes," Luke said, his voice tight. "And he knew me well enough we didn't really need to talk about it." 

"I know you really well, Luke, but you know, we never got around to swapping our kinks list." 

The noise Luke made was somewhere between a cough and a laugh. "No. Guess we missed that milestone." Luke cleared his throat. When he spoke again he sounded settled. "I'll need help navigating that. I don't even know what's normally discussed." 

Bodhi gave the phone a smile. "That, I can definitely do. So, dinner? I've got steaks and potatoes here, think you can swing a salad?"

"Yes," Luke said, sounding a little more certain. "Salad. I can do that." 

"See you around six?" 

"Six. Salad. Yes." 

Bodhi chuckled softly enough that he was sure the phone wouldn't pick it up. "Just a conversation, Luke. It'll be fine." 

"I really hope so," Luke said, sounding more than a little worried. "I'll see you later." 

Bodhi hung up the phone, giving his pajama pants a mournful glance. He was going to have to shower and put real clothes on. 

A small sacrifice, but a sacrifice nonetheless. Well, Luke was worth it. 


	6. A Really Good Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke has a really good (horribly awkward) conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Additional Warning for slightly disordered eating: Mentions of bingeing a lot of food to win a restaurant contest._

Luke showed up right at six, wearing, adorably, a button-down shirt and slacks. Bodhi was sure that Luke knew he could have shown up in ratty sweatpants and it wouldn't have made a difference to Bodhi. It made the fact that he put in an effort even more touching. 

Bodhi was wearing a slim fitting white t-shirt and jeans. Some people might consider that underdressed; Bodhi knew exactly how good he looked in soft white cotton and dark denim. 

Bodhi smiled as he took the salad out of Luke's hands. "Thanks. Potatoes are ready, I waited to put the steaks on until you got here. They'll be ready in ten or so, assuming you still like yours…" 

"Cooked just enough that it doesn't moo," Luke finished, nodding. 

As Bodhi turned back to the cast iron pan he had set up on the tiny apartment stove he asked, keeping his tone casual, "So, question for tonight: am I allowed to flirt?" 

Luke gave a surprised little inhale, before he slowly said, "I thought the goal was to talk?" 

"Lots of different ways to talk."

"Well, bluntly, if you flirt as hard as you did back at the pub, I'm going to be useless for talking," Luke said, sounding pained. 

"Oh _really_?" Bodhi asked, delighted. 

"Don't give me that, you knew what you were doing," Luke said flatly. "But I suppose I'm not opposed on principle. Am I allowed to flirt?" 

Bodhi smiled at the question, and he turned so Luke could see it. "Please do." 

Bodhi turned his attention back to the steaks, they were nearly ready to flip. He had just turned one, when Luke brushed past him, toward the fridge. "Want a beer?" Luke asked. 

"Yeah." Bodhi started to reach forward to flip the other steak when Luke left the kitchen again, dropping a beer off by his elbow. "Than—" 

His words cut off as Luke, moving behind him, stroked fridge-cooled fingers down the nape of Bodhi's neck, drawing his hand across Bodhi's shoulders as he moved by. Bodhi nearly dropped the spatula, electricity sparking down his spine as he turned to find Luke, wearing a slight smirk on his face as he studied Bodhi.

"Should I have asked if I was allowed to touch?" Luke said, still looking unbearably smug. 

Bodhi clearly had to retaliate. He reached over and traced a finger under Luke's jaw, drawing the pad of his finger along Luke's freshly-shaved skin. "Fine by me if it's fine by you, darling," he said, finishing by tapping Luke's chin. 

Luke turned a little pink and backed away. Bodhi tossed him a grin before he reached over and flipped the second steak. 

As they sat down to eat, Bodhi decided to broach the more serious topics, "So, you want to start with my offer or what you're hoping for?" 

Luke's face hardened, determination stealing over his features. "Okay. I'm hoping for…" he swallowed, determination fading to nerves, but continued, "I think I've built up having sex again in my head to be this whole…occasion. I want the chance to get past that."

Bodhi nodded. "Makes sense. Anything else?" 

Luke took a breath. "I know that I might have strong feelings come up. I want to know that that's okay." He ducked his head. "And, I mean, I want to have fun? I want to make you feel good. I want to feel good myself." 

"You've thought this through," Bodhi said, gratified at the care Luke was taking. 

"There's a reason it took me five weeks to call," Luke muttered. He glanced up at Bodhi, "I can overthink things sometimes."

"It doesn't pay to rush these things. I'm glad you took the time to know what you want." Bodhi set down his silverware, pushing his plate away. "And what you're wanting lines up with what I'm willing to give. It's absolutely fine if strong feelings come up. I'd be more surprised if they didn't."

Luke gave a short, grateful nod. "Thank you." 

"And"—Bodhi unfolded his hands, reaching one hand out to cup Luke's elbow—"I know I can make you feel really, really good." 

Luke swallowed hard, Bodhi could feel a tremble run through him. Excitement? Nerves? 

Both, would be Bodhi's wager. He pulled his hand back as he said, "A couple other things…" Bodhi hesitated, looking for the right words.

Before he could continue, Luke said, "No exclusivity."

Bodhi nodded, wondering if that would be a sticking point. Their whole friendship, Luke had been very monogamous. At the beginning, Bodhi hadn't been much of anything, aside from anxious and in desperate need of self-examination. But as he figured himself out, monogamy had never interested him. He liked everyone too much.

"That's fine. I don't expect you to rearrange your life because you had sex with me once." It was Luke's turn to try touching, reaching out and patting the top of Bodhi's hand. 

Bodhi caught Luke's wrist as he was withdrawing, drawing his thumb slowly along the pulse point. "It doesn't have to be once." 

Luke's eyes widened, but whether it was in response to Bodhi's words or his touch, he couldn't tell. This was the problem with flirting during sex negotiations. 

"I figured this was just to...get me over the hurdle. So to speak." Luke's eyes were fixed on where Bodhi still had hold of his wrist.

Bodhi let go of his grip, running his nails lightly along the back of Luke's hand as he withdrew. Luke shivered. "If that's all you want, sure. But if we're good together, then we're good together, and I don't see any reason to stop if we're both still enjoying it."

Luke looked up, pleased surprise on his face. "I just figured a night _was_ your offer. I…" Luke bit his lip, concern flitting across his face. 

Bodhi gave him time. 

"I can't lose you as my friend." Luke finally said, worry ringing through his words. "You're a rock for me, and I can't…I can't lose that. No matter how much I want the sex, or how good."

Bodhi's heart broke for Luke, for the story of loved and lost. Of course he was concerned. God, it must have taken so much courage just to call. He leaned forward, intent on reassuring. "You're my best friend, Luke. Nothing changes that. Certainly not a few orgasms. And if it doesn’t work for one of us, we call it off. No harm, no foul."

Luke gave him a weak smile. "I trust you. When you say that. But you asked for my 'nos' and that's the biggest one."

"I think we're going to work really well together. But I promise, that even if this goes terribly I will still be your friend when we are done." Something else occurred to Bodhi, and he fought to smother a small grin. "But to be clear, by list of 'nos' I meant things like: how do you feel about nipple clamps?"

Luke turned bright red. 

"This is going to be a fun conversation," Bodhi said, grinning. 

Luke grumbled. Then, to his credit, he grimly said, "No on…nipple clamps."

Bodhi, unable to resist, leaned in and asked, "But what about using them on me?"

Luke sank into his chair slightly, "I...would you want it?" 

Luke sounded so baffled that Bodhi decided to back off and use the conversation to a teaching moment. "Good question. Sometimes things aren't a clear 'yes' or 'no,' but more of a 'I could be down if it's a thing for you.' Sounds like that might be where you are." 

"Good to know." Luke nodded, eyebrows still furrowed. "You didn't answer my question." 

Bodhi acknowledged the point. "Sometimes? There's something delicious about pain mixed with pleasure, but I don't need it to have a good time." 

Bodhi paused, taking a moment to really look at Luke. He seemed uncomfortable, but grimly determined to stay open to things. Bodhi appreciated his willingness, but that wasn't the spirit Bodhi was hoping to foster. He wanted Luke filled with anticipation, not dread. 

Thinking fast, Bodhi asked, "Hey, before we get too far into this…how about a kiss?"

Luke pulled back a little, uncertain.

Bodhi stood, closing the distance to the side of Luke's chair. "Just…to figure out if it works. If it's too weird, we don't need to push it. I think the talk will go easier if we have that settled." 

Bodhi held his hand out in front of Luke. Hesitatingly, Luke took it, standing up from his chair. Bodhi didn't step back as Luke stood, staying in his space. Luke wound up three inches away from Bodhi. Bodhi took the hand he was holding and laid it on his waist, resting his now-free hand at Luke's shoulder. 

Luke gave him a slightly nervous smile. "Just a kiss, right?" 

Bodhi leaned a little closer, lips almost touching Luke's. "Whenever you're ready." He let his eyes slide shut.

He heard Luke's shaky inhale, and was close enough that the exhale ghosted across his skin. Then Luke moved forward, and they were kissing. 

It was warm, and sweet, Luke's thumb tracing back and forth along Bodhi's waist, comfortable pressure against Bodhi's mouth. Bodhi relaxed into the kiss, gentle and intimate, and one of the most familiar-feeling first kisses he had. 

He supposed that was what happened when you were friends with someone for years and then kissed them. Not exciting, but— 

The hand against Bodhi's waist slid around, finding the small of his back and tugging. Bodhi stumbled forward, held tight against Luke. Luke's other hand found the back of Bodhi's head, holding him in place as Luke insistently took more from the kiss.

Bodhi gasped against Luke's mouth, surprised as the kiss grew hot and hungry. There was a desperation to the way Luke was kissing, dam breaking, floodwaters rising. Nothing safe about it. 

Good, Bodhi thought, his hands fisting against Luke's shirt. He had never particularly been a big fan of safe. 

"Well," Bodhi said when Luke finally gave him a chance to breathe, "that sure as fuck works for me." 

Luke breathed a short, satisfied laugh, then nodded. Luke didn't seem to have any more words, just tightened his arms around Bodhi and leaned in again. 

The kiss was gentler this time, exploratory, curious. Luke kept one arm wrapped tight around Bodhi's waist, but his other hand came up, tracing along Bodhi's neck, his jaw, the shell of his ear, drawing a gentle outline of Bodhi's face.

Bodhi hummed his contentment and Luke pulled back, slight smile on his face as he took in Bodhi's own pleased expression. "Yeah," he finally said. "That works." His eyes flicked over to the kitchen table, then back to Bodhi with reluctance. "So, we're supposed to talk?" 

With a force of will, Bodhi carefully unwound his fingers from Luke's collar, smoothing out the now wrinkled fabric. "Suppose we should." He rested his hands along Luke's waist, reason and instinct debating in his brain. 

That kiss was important. Luke was hungry. He _wanted_. If Bodhi broke away, sat back down at the table, and forced Luke through the yes/no/maybe of a kink list it'd kill whatever this was between them. But if Bodhi just dragged Luke back to the bedroom and laid him down… 

Bodhi's mind was briefly sidetracked by that mental image, before he forced himself to focus. That was too much risk. Bodhi didn't want to give Luke something he'd have reason to regret receiving. 

Thinking fast, Bodhi tightened his grip on Luke's waist and started walking backward. "So let's talk. If you start doing something I don't like, I'll say 'no' or 'stop.'"

"Well, yeah, of course…" Luke's eyebrows furrowed as he let himself be lead. "That's obvious?" 

"Not to everyone. So you'll do the same?" 

Luke nodded. "Or maybe slow down, wait…" He craned over Bodhi's shoulder. "Where are we going?" 

"Just getting comfortable." Bodhi grinned, finally feeling his calves hit the back of his couch. He fell backward, tugging Luke down on top of him. Luke went with a slight 'oof,' laughing as he wound up straddling Bodhi. 

"Still good?" Bodhi asked.

"Yes," Luke said, wry quirk to his smile. "Though this seems like a compromised position to have a conversation in." 

Bodhi winked. "It's a compromising sort of conversation. Do you like your neck being kissed?"

"I...yes?"

Bodhi leaned forward and mouthed at Luke's pulse. Luke tightened his hands on Bodhi's shoulders, giving a hitched gasp as Bodhi kissed him. Bodhi pulled back. "How about hickies?"

Luke pulled back. "No," he said firmly. "I'm not sixteen. I've no need to show off what we're doing. And I'm definitely not going to deal with my crew or coworkers judging me."

Bodhi pressed a kiss to the other side of Luke's throat. "And that's why we have the conversations." He pulled back, ducking his head so he looked up at Luke through his long eyelashes. "Leave all the marks you want, I won't tell anyone where I got them." 

Luke groaned, his hands tightening again, and Bodhi counted that as a win. 

Bodhi worried at Luke's earlobe while explaining that condoms were not optional, ran his palms along Luke's thighs as he clarified, no, not even for oral, Luke you don't know where my mouth has been, why would you want to go sticking your dick in it unprotected? 

Luke's fingers snuck up under the edges of Bodhi's sleeves as Bodhi learned that Luke liked sucking dick and hated the taste of condoms. 

Bodhi, feeling daring, worked his hands under the hem of Luke's shirt, curling his nails against Luke's stomach as he informed Luke that flavored condom technology had made great strides in the last decade, and he might be surprised. 

The way Luke's belly jittered under his curling nails distracted both of them, Luke grabbing Bodhi's hands and pulling them out from under his shirt. Bodhi looked from Luke's hands around his wrist, to Luke, and said, "This seems like a good time to mention that I'm cool with restraints." 

He expected Luke to blush or pull back, but the way Luke glanced at him, all curiosity and heat, made him shuffle that particular idea higher up the list of 'things to try with Luke.' 

Luke gave a thoughtful grunt, loosening his grip and running his hands up Bodhi's arms. Willing to let it go for the moment, Bodhi played with Luke's collar, undid the top button, and informed Luke that he was STI free as of his last test, and no, that did not mean the blowjob condoms were optional, because _how do you think I've stayed STI free, Luke?_

Luke chuckled, acknowledged the point, and then to Bodhi's surprise, said, "My panel came back clear, too." 

Bodhi paused his work on the second button, looking up at Luke. "You've been tested?" 

Luke rolled one shoulder, uncomfortable. "Figured it was something I should do before I called you. Another reason it took me five weeks."

"Aw," Bodhi tugged at Luke's collar, "come're." Bodhi tugged Luke down into a kiss, bringing his hands up to frame Luke's jaw. He pulled back, placing one more quick peck against Luke's nose before saying, "Thanks. That's really considerate." 

Luke's brow furrowed. "You're important to me." 

And after that, well, Bodhi just _had_ to kiss him again. 

His hands wound up tangled in Luke's collar, holding Luke close, as Luke rumbled happily and pressed into the kiss. Luke's hands flitted over Bodhi's cheekbones, across the ridge of his ears, until they sank into the short hairs at the back of Bodhi's head. Luke held him close and kissed him, kissed him with certainty and authority. 

Bodhi shuddered. Luke was really good at this. 

Luke broke the kiss, his mouth sliding to Bodhi's neck. Luke's tongue danced in hot lines, before he stopped and sucked the skin into his mouth. Sharp pleasure flooded Bodhi's senses, his hands, seeking more, stroked mindlessly across Luke's chest, down his ribs, around his back, hesitating there. 

He didn't want to push Luke too far, but he wanted— 

Luke nipped the skin he was worrying, sharp pleasure bloomed, and Bodhi gave up on propriety. He slid his hands down and grabbed Luke's ass, hauling him closer. 

The angle forced Luke to give up his attack, but he didn't seem to mind, his eyes sliding shut as he felt Bodhi grind against him, a moment's pause before he gave a rough groan and started to press back against Bodhi as well. His hands never stopped cradling the back of Bodhi's head, and Bodhi felt held in place, overwhelmed in the best sort of way, dizzy with want for the body covering his. 

He tried, in his lust-addled brain, to figure out if there was anything else they needed to talk about. He didn't _think_ there was, but he wasn't thinking much of anything at the momen— 

Luke's teeth found Bodhi's earlobe and Bodhi gave up on thought. 

For awhile it was all heat and pressure and friction, tongues and teeth and hands. Luke's movements became impatient, a whine in the back of his throat as his hips moved, seeking something he couldn't find. Bodhi's hands found the top button of Luke's slacks, and he broke away, summoning the strength of will to ask, "Luke, can I—?" 

"Please," was Luke's ragged answer.

Before he even finished speaking, Bodhi had Luke's slacks undone, dragging the zipper down and slipping his impatient fingers under the band of Luke's boxers. Luke was hard and thick and Bodhi's mouth watered, his mind already spinning out what else he could do with that cock. But for now, he wrapped his fingers around it, doing his best to spread Luke's precome down the length of it. 

Luke groaned, and buried his head against Bodhi's shoulder while Bodhi worked. The angle was terrible, Bodhi's hand was too dry, and four awkward strokes later, Luke came with a gasp, spilling messily over Bodhi's fingers. Bodhi gently stroked him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, until Luke, with a shudder, twitched his hips away. Bodhi extricated his now-messy hand, holding it to the side as he rested the clean one against Luke's waist. 

Luke, the ridge of his nose still pressed firmly against Bodhi's collarbone, shivered. His shoulders hitched, and a moment later, Bodhi realized he was crying. 

Bodhi slid his hand from Luke's waist to his back, tugging Luke down against him. "I'm a mess," Luke mumbled, refusing to move. 

"You think I care?" Bodhi said, wiping his other hand against his t-shirt. A little gross, but he had more important concerns right now. With both hands, he insistently tugged Luke down on top of him. "Come here." 

Luke gave up, collapsing against Bodhi, his face turned to Bodhi's neck as he cried, a silent, gasping, spill of emotion. Bodhi ran his hand over Luke's back, holding him close, letting him feel. 

"Sorry," Luke muttered, as he slowly got his breathing under control again. "It's not—" 

Bodhi kissed the side of Luke's head. "I know. We both kinda figured there was probably a breakdown lurking in there."

"Still," Luke struggled back, gesturing to himself: eyes red, pants unbuttoned, with an obvious wet spot on the front of his boxers that had spread to Bodhi's shirt, "not at all dignified." 

Bodhi gave Luke a serious look. "I have watched you eat three pounds of fried chicken because you wanted to win a dumb restaurant contest, and then I hung out with you in the bathroom while you dealt with the consequences of that decision. And you have listened to me sing every single off of Britney Spears '...baby one more time' album during karaoke night, with me drunk crying between songs about how Britney is the seminal artist of our time. There is no dignity left between us." 

Luke gave a shaky laugh. 

"There you go," Bodhi said, running a thumb along Luke's cheek. "You're beautiful. How are you feeling?" 

"Aside from emotionally exhausted and embarrassed?" Luke winced, and the conversation paused for a moment as he twisted his leg up and over Bodhi's lap, until he collapsed down on the couch sitting next to Bodhi. "A little stiff, apparently." He smiled. "And good. Even with all the"—Luke gestured to his face with an expression of frustration—"I feel really good." 

Bodhi leaned his head against Luke's shoulder. "I really hope you're up for doing this again. I swear, I was planning on showing you a better time than high-school style couch fumblings." 

"We're not even done for tonight." Luke sounded so indignant that Bodhi had to smile. "I'm not in the habit of leaving my partners unsatisfied," Luke slid his hand up Bodhi's leg, squeezing indecently high on his thigh. 

Bodhi's cock, which had given up on arousal sometime during the cuddling and the crying, perked up again very quickly. Bodhi didn't bother spending any time arguing that this was for _Luke_ that he was happy just to be a part of things. He liked orgasms too much. 

"Want to try out those flavored condoms?" Bodhi asked. 

Luke gave him a dubious look, then shrugged. "Sure." 

"Two questions," Bodhi said, flashing a quick 'V' with his fingers. "How do you feel about beds, and how do you feel about being naked in beds? Because," he looked down at himself with a wrinkled nose. "I think both of those options would be more comfortable at the moment." 

"I'm in favor of both," Luke said, turning a little pink. He sighed. "This is probably going to be another thing."

Bodhi stood up from the couch, offering Luke a hand. "Aw, come on, don't you want to see me naked?" 

Luke took his hand, turning even more pink. "I do but—" Luke gave Bodhi an exasperated glare, "It's a little weird." 

"Only weird if you make it weird." Bodhi, who was a big believer in putting his money where his mouth was, stripped off his shirt, before starting to walk backward to the bedroom, curing the fingers of both hands in a little, 'come on' gesture.

Luke's eyes went wide, and he followed Bodhi. 

Bodhi winked. "You think I'm pretty, don't you." Bodhi navigated his apartment backward easily, only clipping his shoulder against one doorframe before he found the bedroom door. Throwing a grateful 'thank you' to his past self for putting new sheets on the bed in a fit of optimism, he opened the door to the bedroom. He stepped through, tossing his shirt in the laundry bin before turning to Luke again, arms spread wide. "Come on, tell me how pretty I am." 

Luke shook his head, and just as Bodhi expected him to demur, said, "You're absolutely gorgeous," like it was a pure statement of fact. 

Bodhi dropped his arms, feeling surprisingly warmed by the statement. He'd had his looks praised by intent suitors, by people in the throes of passion, by lovers hazy with afterglow. All good moments, with their own joy to them, but there was something special about this too, Luke, entirely matter of fact, looking Bodhi over with a reverent fondness. 

He reached out and cupped Luke's cheek. "You too, darling. Come on, let's get naked and be gorgeous together." 

Luke laughed, and his nerves seemed to fade. They helped each other strip out of the rest of their clothes, leaving them in a vague trail over to the bed. Bodhi pushed Luke back against the sheets and grinned at his disgruntled expression, shamelessly taking a moment to look. "Fucking beautiful," slipped out as he admired. 

"You're one to talk," Luke shot back, and Bodhi realized he wasn't the only one who was staring. Luke was propped up on one elbow, mouth slightly open as he took in Bodhi's form. Bodhi licked his lips, delighted by the attention. Luke reached out, beckoning him over. 

Bodhi held up a hand. "Just a sec." He walked (okay, really, sauntered, he enjoyed having an appreciative audience) over to his right nightstand, pulling out his box of condoms. He offered them across the bed to Luke. "See what tickles your fancy from the _menu_." 

Luke gave Bodhi an exasperated look, but he took the box anyway. Bodhi scooted on to the bed and sat to the side and slightly behind Luke, resting his chin on Luke's shoulder as Luke flipped through the foil packets. 

"Scotch whiskey?" Luke said, sounding disbelieving.

"Mmm, smokey, bit of a bite, a good choice." Bodhi leaned in closer, relishing the feeling of his chest and shoulder pressing up against Luke's back. 

Luke leaned back, shifting so that it was the most natural thing in the world for Bodhi to put his arm around Luke's other shoulder. It seemed like reflex; Luke relaxed naturally against Bodhi while most of his attention seemed focused on the condom. "I think I'll pass," Luke said, putting it back in the box. "That's just weird." 

Luke was very judgemental of Bodhi's condom assortment. Chocolate was a no, he had apparently never liked fake cherry flavor, cola was apparently too strange. Bodhi played his fingers along Luke's collarbone and tried to talk Luke into the banana flavored condom. "It's the right shape." 

"You want me to bite it?" was Luke's sharp retort, and Bodhi decided to not push on that particular front. 

Finally, Luke held up a packet that he deemed, "Marginally less terrible than the other choices." 

Bodhi blinked at the flavor, before burying his face in Luke's shoulder and desperately trying to stifle his giggles. 

"What?" Luke asked warily.

Bodhi tipped his head up again and said, "Luke, baby, please read that out loud." 

Luke paused, then sighed, and then very reluctantly said, "Vanilla." 

Bodhi burst out laughing, falling backward on the bed. 

"Yeah, yeah," Luke grumbled. "Laugh it up." 

"It's just—perf—" Bodhi gave up, covered his face with his hands, overwhelmed by laughter again. 

"You know what, Luke?" Luke said to himself, in a frankly horrible mimic of Bodhi's accent, that only made Bodhi giggle more. "I think I'm too busy laughing at you to want my dick sucked." Luke huffily turned around, facing Bodhi's sprawled form. 

Bodhi did his best to get his laughter under control. He mostly succeeded, chuckles sneaking out in hitched breaths as he strove to control his breathing. He peeked at Luke through his fingers. "You have to admit, it's pretty perfect." 

Luke, in response, grabbed Bodhi's cock and started stroking it. Bodhi tensed at the sudden touch, arching into Luke's hand, and then, as the movement continued, Luke's firm grip sparking pleasure, Bodhi could feel himself melt. His hands relaxed, falling limply to either side of his head. Bodhi let his eyes fall shut, focusing on sensation. 

"You need me to move?" Bodhi mumbled, fighting back a groan as his cock grew hard in Luke's hands. 

"Nah, I got it." Luke sounded fond, and Bodhi let himself stretch out, smiling as Luke worked him. Luke shifted, and a warm kiss was pressed against Bodhi's ribs. "You look happy." 

"I wonder why," Bodhi said, thrusting pointedly into Luke's grip. 

Luke ran kisses down the side of Bodhi's chest, working closer and closer to Bodhi's cock. Just about when he reached Bodhi's hip, he pulled back, and Bodhi heard the sound of a condom being opened. A moment later Luke rolled the slick sheath down Bodhi's cock, working it with his hand a few times. Bodhi gave a happy purr at the sensation, latex sliding over skin, moved by a warm, certain hand.

The hand pulled away, and Luke shifted, kneeling between Bodhi's legs. He gripped Bodhi, a hand on either hip, and Bodhi braced for the feeling of tongue and heat. It didn't come, and after a couple seconds Bodhi opened his eyes, to find Luke looking up at him, worried expression on his face. 

"If I...can't stand the taste, I'm not going to force myself to keep going." Luke said. 

Bodhi curled one of his relaxed hands into a thumbs up. Of course, the hand was upside-down, so there was an awkward twist before Bodhi made sure it carried the right spirit. "Handjobs rock too," he said, hoping the clarification helped.

Luke gave a slight nod, screwed his face up with determination, then lowered his mouth onto Bodhi's cock. 

Bodhi's head fell back against the bed with a soft 'thwump,' at the amazing feeling of tight heat stretching over his cock. There was delicious pressure, up and down. Bodhi cracked an eye open, checking to see how Luke was doing. Bodhi wasn't going to be able to enjoy this if Luke was just...enduring. But Luke's expression had relaxed; he seemed focused, not in any particular distress. 

Bodhi kept watching, captivated by the way his cock slid in and out of Luke's mouth. He had always stored Luke's attractiveness in his mind in the same space he stored information about black holes or the creatures that live in the depths of the sea—true things, interesting things, and nothing Bodhi was ever going to touch. Nothing _personal_ about the knowledge. 

Well, now things were very personal, and Bodhi had to admit that, personally, he thought Luke's mouth was divine, that there was something holy in the curve of his lips. Watching them stretch around his cock was the filthiest sort of worship. 

Bodhi groaned, his eyes falling shut again, unable to keep from arching into a shallow thrust, desperate for that touch, desperate for Luke to move closer, to take him deeper, give him more.

Luke growled, the vibrations sending shivers up Bodhi's spine, and tightened his grip on Bodhi's hips, shoving them back against the mattress. Luke pulled off of Bodhi's cock with a wet slide. "Be _good_," Luke chastised. 

Bodhi shivered at the sudden chill, breath catching as he nodded and focused the whole of his effort into keeping his hips from seeking out that delicious heat again. 

Bodhi's patience was rewarded, as Luke sucked the tip of Bodhi's cock back into his mouth. Luke worked him slowly, achingly slowly. Bodhi's hands fisted in the blankets as he fought to keep from moving, to keep from begging. Luke would give him what he needed. He just had to— 

There was a sharp twist against his nipple, and Bodhi arched off the bed again. "Sorry!' he gasped quickly, but it was too late, Luke was pulling off of him again. 

Luke placed a nipping kiss at the curve of Bodhi's hip before reiterating, "I thought I told you to be good." 

"You are not playing fair," Bodhi grumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes and settling his hips against the blanket again. 

"You can handle it," Luke said, and Bodhi felt chills roll down his spine at the quiet certainty. 

Luke took him down again, and this time, Bodhi was better prepared for his roaming hands. Luke rolled Bodhi's nipples between his thumb and forefinger, teased them until the ache was almost too much, and just as Bodhi opened his mouth to protest, Luke moved on, drawing his blunt nails down Bodhi's chest, firm enough to leave a dull burn in their wake. He pinched at the inside of Bodhi's thigh, worrying at the tender skin, Bodhi had to draw every muscle he could tight to keep from moving. 

He was distantly aware that every breath was coming in a whine, that he was trembling from the effort of keeping still. But through it all Luke never stopped working Bodhi's cock, and the other pains faded, as pleasure drew up and in, centering in on his torso, his belly, his balls tightening… 

Bodhi opened his mouth to warn Luke, but at the same time Luke rolled his palm along Bodhi's balls, a little too rough, a little too much, and Bodhi came with a shout, pulsing into Luke's mouth. His body felt liquid, molten, all his muscles relaxing at once, shivering, trembling pleasure taking him over. 

Luke pulled off of him with a hum of satisfaction, smoothing his thumb over Bodhi's hip. He smacked his lips a couple times. "I still don't love the flavor, but it wasn't terrible." 

Bodhi lifted his head off of the bed, incredulously. "That's all you have to say?"

Luke pulled back a little, looking thoughtful. "It's cleaner? I've never really minded swallowing, though, so…" he shrugged. 

"Um…" Bodhi blinked, unsure of how to say, 'Luke, I have had my cock sucked so many times I could judge the cocksucking olympics, and you just fucking medaled.' Was that sort of show Luke's normal? Goddamn. "You're good at that," Bodhi finally said, in the understatement of the year.

Luke smiled. "I listen. Pain mixed with pleasure, right?" 

Bodhi worked his jaw a couple times. "Right. That worked." 

"I'm glad." Luke leaned forward, falling over Bodhi's stretched out form and catching himself on his elbows, hovering above Bodhi. "Mind if I kiss you?" 

In response, Bodhi forced some life back into his pleasure-dazed muscles, reaching up and pulling Luke towards his lips. Luke carefully let more of his weight drop on Bodhi, leaning into the kiss, his legs tangling up with Bodhi's, his hips— 

Bodhi pulled from the kiss, arching his eyebrows and pointedly grinding up, Luke's half-hardened cock sliding against Bodhi's skin. 

Luke blushed. "Don't worry about tha—" 

Before Luke could finish that idiotic sentence, Bodhi reached up and brushed his fingers over Luke's mouth. "Shush." He wiggled some more, enjoying the way Luke struggled to stay focused. 

"Stop," Luke said. "I'm not actually ready to go again." 

"Mm-hmm?" Bodhi said, dubiously, but stopped moving nonetheless. "Just as well. We need to have a water break, and I'm thinking some snacks would be a good idea." Bodhi locked his fingers around the condom's rim and slowly slid his way out from under Luke. 

As he moved to trash the condom, he threw a look over his shoulder, at Luke resting on his bed. His eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure, his cock half-thick and resting against against his thigh, his mouth gone red with use. He was gorgeous, and Bodhi wasn't done with him yet.

"Stay tonight?" Bodhi asked. 

Surprise flitted across Luke's face, which settled into contentment. "Happily." A moment later, he shook his head, chuckling. "For the record, I'm never trusting you again when you invite me over for 'just a conversation.'" 

Bodhi grinned. "Hey, not my fault, we just had a _really good_ conversation." 

"Guess that's one way of putting it." Luke stretched, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. "Alright, you go get water and snacks, I'm going to go clean myself up properly." 

"Baby, I'm just going to mess you up again," Bodhi said, completely unable to help himself.

"I'm counting on it," Luke tossed back, walking out of the room. 


	7. Chief Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge gets some news, both good and...complicated.

"Mr. Ackbar, you wanted to see me?" Wedge poked his head through the office door.

The older man looked up and gave a broad smile. "Wedge, yes, come in!" 

Gial Ackbar, better known as "The Admiral" to most of the Wraith pilots, was that rare beast of a career line pilot that had managed to wiggle his way into aviation management. Wedge wouldn't say he _wanted_ that career path for himself, it didn't involve nearly enough flying. But he had his fair share of ambition, and there was something exciting about the idea of making his way into the upper echelons. 

Something to keep in mind, Wedge mused, as he took the chair across from Ackbar's desk. 

"Wedge, thanks for coming by. I wanted to talk with you for a moment about your…future plans." 

"Always happy to talk to you," Wedge said with a slight incline of his head. Internally, he began to get excited. Wedge had jumped airlines just over a decade ago. Wraith had courted him away from Rogue with the allure of a hefty pay increase and a position with more responsibility. Along with the deal had been an implicit promise that Wraith was looking to fill its senior pilot positions with younger blood, and Wedge was a prime candidate.

"You're the fleet captain for the A330's, right?" 

There was no way Ackbar didn't know that, but Wedge still answered, "I am. It's been a good fleet to run. I like to think we're a smooth and efficient machine…as smooth and efficient as any job that requires moving thousands of people a day can be." 

Ackbar chuckled obligingly. "It hasn't escaped our notice that your work has been exemplary, exactly the eye for detail that's important." 

"Thank you." Wedge folded his hands in front of him and leaned in, his heart racing slightly. Right now, he was close enough to the top of the pecking order that there were only a couple different ways his career could go. And he had been hearing some rumors, lately. 

Ackbar gave a slight smile. "Are you aware that Garvin is finally making good on his promise to retire?" 

Wedge tried to appear absolutely unphased. "He's been promising that for years." 

"Well, yes, but we have reason to believe he's actually going to go through with it this time. I'm not going to beat around the bush, Wedge. We're going to need a new Chief Pilot at our San Francisco base, and you're our top candidate. You interested?" 

Wedge fought down the wild glee in his chest. "Very. I'm pleased to be considered." Wedge paused, cocking his head. "I'm sure there will be a pay increase, to go along with the added responsibilities?" 

Ackbar inclined his head. "We'll include a number in our formal offer." 

Wedge leaned back in his chair. "Just remember, I know what I'm worth." 

Ackbar laughed. "No shortage of gumption on you, is there Antilles? Don't worry, we'll keep your value well in mind. Now get out of my office. I'm a busy man, and so are you."

Wedge was a dignified, reserved, mature human being, so he did not skip out of The Admiral's office. He kept his nod brief, his gait controlled, and waited until he was well out of the office building and away from any other Wraith employee before he let a wild smile spread across his face, barking out a laugh of joy and triumph. 

Chief Pilot. Highest-ranked pilot in the Wraith hierarchy, leadership and responsibilities but still plenty of chances to fly. Wedge had known what he wanted to be since he was sixteen years old, and now, it was his. 

Wedge shoved his hands in his pockets and fought down the urge to whistle. 

* * *

The formal offer's pay raise was even more than Wedge had expected, but he felt obliged to negotiate a two-percent increase out of a spirit of competitive goodwill. He took a picture of the final contract and texted it to Luke, without comment. 

Four hours later, just as Wedge was wrapping up a very indulgent five-course dinner down at the wharf, his phone buzzed. Wedge pushed the last bites of the chocolate mousse cake with salted caramel shards toward Wes, and checked the message. A text from Luke showed, letting Wedge know that he had just landed in Berlin, congratulations, and that he had an hour before he needed to be asleep if Wedge wanted to talk. 

Wedge finished up and bid the assorted Wraith pilots goodnight. After one last attempt at the bill, that was deftly swatted away by Tyria, Wedge resigned himself to the fact that his fellow pilots really were determined to pay for his meal. Hugs all around, and Wedge left, walking his way down to the water. He leaned on a railing, stared out over the waves, and decided he did want to talk. He pulled out his phone and called Luke. 

"Wedge, hold on—" Luke broke off, and there was some quiet murmuring, before Luke came back on the line. "Alright, I've got my room key, I'm all yours. Chief pilot! Wedge! That's big!" 

"It's not bad." 

"You grump. It's your dream"—Luke was interrupted by a massive yawn—"job. Sorry, fatigue."

"Still a job," Wedge said, but he was smiling. Luke would be able to hear past the bluster. 

"You love it," Luke said with a slight grunt as he got his hotel door open and his luggage through it. "Have you figured out where you're going for your hyperindulgent 'I-Got-Promoted' dinner?" 

"Just wrapped it up. Five courses. French. Very celebratory." 

"Good." There was a squeak, and Luke exhaled all at once, sounding content. 

"Bed's good?" 

"Three and a half stars. Decent mattress, but I'm sensing it's going to be a sub-par blanket experience." 

"Still, respectable." 

"Oh, very."

"So," Luke said around a yawn. "Bring any company to this dinner of yours?" 

Wedge smiled. "I wasn't planning on it. But a few of the senior pilots insisted on treating me."

Luke chuckled. "An expensive proposition." 

"I warned them I took my celebration dinners seriously. They knew what they were getting into." 

"Good, good." Luke gave a content sigh, and Wedge could just about picture Luke sinking into the mattress. "Anyone I know?" 

"Wes, he says hi." 

"Hi Wes," Luke responded dutifully. "Let him know that we miss him, and we still think he's a traitor for following you over to Wraith."

"I will not. I don't think you've met Tyria or Garik." 

"Tyria spoke at that conference, and Garik...wasn't he a child actor? With some sort of horrible nickname?"

"He goes by Face, he's proud of it, and how do you know so much about my airline?" 

"I talk to people," Luke said dismissively. 

"Of course you do." Wedge would never quite understand how Luke managed to effortlessly network his way through the world of flight. It was a terrifying superpower, in Wedge's mind, and Luke seemed to consider it just polite, to remember the hobbies and histories of literally hundreds of pilots. 

"So, was that it? Or did you bring anyone _special?_" 

Wedge shook his head, giving a nearby seagull a commiserating look. Some people couldn't leave well enough alone. "Still very single, Luke. What about you?" Wedge regretted the words as soon as he said them. "Sorry, that was…nevermind." 

Luke chuckled, still sounding warm and a bit sleepy, and Wedge's shoulders relaxed. "It's fine, I deserved it. 'S what I get for being nosy." 

"Very nosy. Well, good news, the promotion means I'll be around New York more. We go out to dinner together and commiserate in our very single existence." 

"Ah…" Luke paused for too long. "Dinner sounds nice." 

"Uh-huh." Wedge narrowed his eyebrows, casting suspicious thoughts towards the phone. 

Luke sighed. "I can see your glare from here. I'm…not exactly single. It's casual."

"You. Casual." Wedge fought down a swirling storm of emotion, disbelief twisting around a hurt sense of loyalty, buffeted by a sense that it was probably good that Luke was reaching out again. "That's…" 

"I'm trying something new," Luke said, something defensive in his voice. 

"Is it working?" Wedge asked bluntly. That, he decided, was the most important thing. 

"It is," Luke said, sounding so honestly happy that Wedge relaxed. "I don't think casual is my forever plan, but it's uncomplicated and low-stakes." 

"That's good then. You just let me know if someone hurts you and you need them dealt with." 

"Don't murder my fling," Luke said, his voice brightening even further with amusement. 

"If he treats you right we won't have a problem," Wedge said, smiling himself, looking out over the dark ocean. "If you're happy, I'm happy." 

"I'm happy," Luke reassured him. "Now can we please stop talking about this—I am bright red and this is not going to help me fall asleep at a reasonable hour. Oh! Did you just hike a _glacier?_ I saw the photos."

Wedge perked up. "Yeah, down in the very south of Chile…breathtaking. There was…" Wedge paused. "Do you really want to hear about this, or are you just trying to change the subject?" 

"I was trying to change the subject and of course I want to hear about it." Luke yawned again. "I'm just going to brush my teeth while we talk, though, and I might fall asleep on you." 

"Fair enough," Wedge said, before happily launching into the story of his most recent adventure. 

* * *

Wedge stretched out in his lounge chair, eyes closed, his face turned to the sun. It sunk into his bones, warming him gently, chasing away the worst of the March chill. The breeze carried the sweet floral scent of his early blooming flowers. Wedge turned his head and opened his eyes, taking in broad leafy plants, dark green giving way to bright new growth, everything coming alive again after winter. 

Something in that thought caused his mind to wander over the Luke, admitting that he was involved with someone new, something casual. The tangle of emotions that had reared their head over that thought had surprised Wedge. It's not like it was any of his business, but he had always been more protective than Luke had needed. This was probably more of the same. 

Wedge let his eyes fix on a tiny, vivid green leaf, pointing up from the base of a respectable broad-leafed peace lily. New life. New joys. 

Wedge turned away, letting his eyes fall shut again. He shouldn't be surprised. Luke found people enjoyable. And not specific people, not a closely vetted group of friends, he just genuinely liked people. It made sense that he wouldn't remain single for long. 

It stung a bit, Wedge wasn't ashamed to admit. He still thought of Luke as Dak's; it felt disrespectful. But Dak would emerge from his afterlife to haunt Wedge if he ever did something so stupid as utter that thought out loud to Luke. Luke deserved his uncomplicated, low-stakes joy. 

But the sting wasn't only misplaced chivalry. Luke had dragged himself back from one of the worst losses someone could suffer and managed to reconnect. Wedge, on the other hand, nurtured every slight and bitterness into a protective hedge around his heart. As the years that went by, there were fewer and fewer people willing to chance the thorns to get through.

But why did it matter? 

Feeling restless in his frustration, Wedge pushed himself out of the lounge chair. He started moving through his plants, giving his fingers something to do while his mind worried. He culled weak leaves, pinched overeager blooms, and tried to ram his thoughts into a shape that made sense. 

Sure, Wedge wouldn't mind somebody to share his life with. He had never been opposed to the idea. But that sort of love wasn't for everyone, and it had never really worked out for him. And he didn't really feel like he had missed much. 

Somewhere in wrapping tender new vines around a trellis, Wedge paused. He fed the shoot through the gap, gently tanging it up so it grew in the right direction. This was the sort of thing that made him happy, time in the garden, dirt under his fingernails, things that he had nurtured into life growing around him. 

Maybe the thing around his heart wasn't a hedge.

He was happy, truly, here with himself. He wasn't looking for just anyone. If he actually welcomed someone into this space, into his life, he had to be happier with them around than by himself. And he was happy by himself. 

That soothed, somewhat, the sting that had lingered with him. He wasn't dooming himself to a life spent single because of bitterness. He was, in fact, demanding that whatever else his life held, that it would somehow need to be better than this: a job he loved, a space he loved, friends he loved, a life he loved. 

Wedge figured there wasn't much chance that someone would actually _meet_ that impossibly high standard, but that thought didn't really bother him. He was content, here and now. That was more than enough. 


	8. Self-Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-discovery can be fun.

Luke collapsed down onto the mattress next to Bodhi, shivering as he stared at the ceiling. Gradually, he became aware of Bodhi curled up next to him, forehead tucked against Luke's bicep. Luke's hand reached up and, in a now-practiced gesture, stroked through the fine back hairs near the nape of Bodhi's neck. 

Bodhi hummed contentedly, nuzzling Luke's bicep with his nose. "Go get us a towel." 

"I did all the work," Luke grumbled, still feeling the twitching muscles in his thighs and hips as they slowly relaxed after hard use.

Bodhi snorted. "You just pinned me down and fucked me senseless. I'm not going anywhere. It's your job. There's an etiquette to these things. Don't be rude."

Luke reluctantly untangled his fingers and pushed himself upright. "Don't think I haven't noticed that the etiquette is whatever suits you best. You taking advantage of my naiveté?" Luke batted his eyelashes at Bodhi twice. 

Bodhi barked a tired laugh. "Yes, darling, I'm taking you for all you're worth. Which, in this instance, is a warm towel." 

"It's a _warm_ towel now, is it?" Luke asked as he left through the door to the bathroom. 

Still, he did run the hot water while he took care of the condom, and returned with both warm wet towels and dry ones. 

Luke found Bodhi in the exact same position he had been when Luke left, curled on his side, leaning against a Luke that was no longer there. Luke climbed back into the bed and nudged Bodhi to his back, cleaning up the aftermath of their fun. Bodhi was more placid than usual, letting himself be moved around. When Luke finished, Bodhi snuggled back in, curling so his forehead rested against Luke's shoulder again. 

"You doing okay?" Luke asked. 

"Peachy," Bodhi said with a yawn. 

They stayed like that a little longer and Luke soaked up the sheer animal comfort of having another warm body so close. But unease crept in, something in the moment feeling unresolved. Luke sighed.

"What's up?" Bodhi said sleepily, pushing back from Luke again. 

"Can we talk about the sex?" Luke asked. "Something's nagging me." 

"Yeah, man. Just give me a sec." Bodhi sat up, fumbling for the water bottle that sat on his nightstand. Bodhi gulped some water and rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes before turning to Luke. "Alright, shoot." 

"Are you…doing alright? That last one felt different. You were really…" Luke chewed on his lip, not sure how to find the right words. 

"Desperate?" Bodhi filled in, slight smile on his face. "I was begging, after all. Pleading for you to pin me down and use me. Did you not like it?" 

Luke swallowed, a fire roaring to life in his belly at just the remembered words. "No, it was…" _Amazing. Hot. Compelling._ "…fine. But I guess if I'm doing something for you I want to understand why?" 

Bodhi nodded. "Yeah, maybe we should have talked about it first. You just seemed really into it today and I figured, hey, why not have some fun?"

"_I_ was into it?"

"Luke, darling, you've got one hell of a power kink." 

"I do not!" Luke protested reflexively, turning bright red. 

"You don't even know what I mean!" Bodhi shot back, looking amused. "You get off on me going belly-up for you. You like control." 

"I don't think that's—"

"This gorgeous aura of command just comes rolling off you. It's very heady. And the more I gave up, the more you took, you were so _hungry_ for it. It was really beautiful." 

"I—" Luke had no idea what to say to that. 

"Take two seconds and be honest with yourself, Luke. The thing about today? It was different. Did you like it?"

"Yes," Luke said. No point in denying it. "But that was probably just because it was a really good day. It's not necessarily the...other stuff." 

"Uh-huh," Bodhi said, with such affectionate skepticism that Luke glared at him. Bodhi held up his hands. "There's no shame in having some kinks, Luke. It makes life more interesting." 

Luke narrowed his eyes at Bodhi. "That's not—next time we'll do what you want." 

"You need to get more comfortable with self-examination," Bodhi said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. He stretched, and Luke couldn't help but appreciate the lithe line of his body. "But fine, next time we'll do exactly what I want, and we'll see how you like it." 

Luke really, _really_ should have heard the threat in those words. He later blamed the stretching for that particular oversight. And yet, three weeks later, when his and Bodhi's schedules lined up again and Bodhi texted him, he showed up at Bodhi's place with nothing more than a vague excitement to finally find out what Bodhi liked.

The excitement soured when he saw the ropes laid out on Bodhi's bed. Luke set his jaw. He had asked. He would see it through. Bodhi picked up a rope and handed it to Luke, who tried not to show his reluctance as he took it. 

"Black hemp, well oiled, feel how soft it is?" 

Luke nodded, running his thumb along the weave of the rope. He could do this. He asked for it, after all. 

"How do you feel about getting tied up?" Bodhi asked. 

"I'm willing to give it a try," Luke said, looking at the rope like it might bite, feeling the uncomfortable ghost of it around his wrists. Still, if it was something Bodhi liked… 

"Well, that's not what's happening," Bodhi said with a bright smile. "I'm going to teach you how to use these ropes to tie me up, you're going to do it, and then you're going to fuck me." 

Luke coughed, his hands spasming around the rope he was holding. A new image spooled out in front of him, Bodhi, held in place by the rope, trusting Luke, taking what pleasure Luke chose to give him… 

Luke shook his head slightly, rearing back to look at Bodhi. "This is not you being in charge." 

"Sure it is. I know exactly what I want. And that is for you to tie me up," Bodhi stepped closer, bringing his wrist up under the rope Luke was holding, stark black line against his golden brown skin, "and admit you're not quite as vanilla as you've always claimed." Bodhi looked up again, an infuriating challenge in his eyes. 

Luke felt a thrill run through him, bright and pounding, staring down at Bodhi's wrist, bisected by rope. He shoved that feeling to the side and said, "No guarantees on the second half." And yet, he couldn't stop himself from moving towards the bed and grabbing for the rope. "Alright. What do I actually do with this?" 

Bodhi grinned, climbed on the bed after Luke, "How about a deal?" Bodhi said as he picked up a rope, gesturing for Luke to mirror him. "This does nothing special for you, and I buy you dinner. You admit you have a kink, and dinner's your treat." 

"Deal." Luke held out his own rope and paid attention as Bodhi began to teach him the basics of rope safety. 

* * *

"Shit," Luke muttered, as he tried with trembling fingers to unravel the harness again. 

"Take your time, 'm very comfortable." Bodhi said, pleasure thick in his voice, not bothering to move despite his face being half-buried in the pillows. "So, ready to admit it?" 

Luke paused, catching his breath, leaning his forehead against the middle of Bodhi's back, in the center of an elaborate harness of rope. "Steak," he finally said when he pulled back and started picking at the ties again, this time finding the tail and starting to unravel the harness. 

"Steak?" Bodhi asked. 

"I owe you a fucking steak. Or something else. Whatever you want." 

Bodhi gave a satisfied groan. "I feel almost guilty taking your money, after this. Fuck, Luke, you're a genius." 

Luke freed one of Bodhi's arms, and Bodhi shifted it around in front of him, no interest in moving it further than that. 

"A prodigy," Bodhi continued, sounding a little delirious.

"I still think you're biased," Luke said, still feeling a little shaky from the shift in his thinking. 

Fuck, Bodhi, with his hands tied behind him, so beautiful with the black rope framing his chest. Trusting Luke, unable to do anything but trust him. Taking Luke beautifully, asking for more, begging for more, letting Luke play his body like an instrument, finding the harmonies of pleasure.

"You're biased," Bodhi retorted. "You need to fuck more people like that. You'll see. People will line up for the experience."

Luke snorted softly, finally getting Bodhi's other arm free, then working on the rest of the harness itself. "I don't know if I'd want this with just anyone. I could only see this working with someone I trust." 

"Your choice," Bodhi said easily, helping Luke shrug the ropes off when they got loose enough. Once the rope was clear he rolled onto his back. "Thanks for trusting me enough to go with it." He pat Luke's thigh, lazily. "Self-discovery is fun." 

Luke smiled down at Bodhi, leaned over, and kissed him gently. "This was definitely one of the more pleasant kinds." 

Bodhi kissed back, chasing Luke as he pulled away. When Luke finally moved out of range, Bodhi flopped back against the bed, saying, "Alright, we're going to shower together." 

"Oh are we?" 

"Yes, I need you to make sure I don't fall over because I'm not certain my legs work any longer," Bodhi informed him seriously. 

"Well alright then," Luke said agreeably.

"And then!" Bodhi said with a dramatic point at the ceiling. "You and I are going to get a _steak!_" 

"Good sex really does make you a little loopy," Luke said, ruffling Bodhi's hair affectionately. "I'll go start the water running, you lay there and try to recover feeling in your legs." 

* * *

"…and a bottle of Bollinger," Bodhi finished, giving their waitress a charming smile. 

"Champagne! Very good." The waitress gave them a happy smile. "And what are we celebrating today?" 

Bodhi had the great joy of watching Luke go bright red and do his best to sink under the table. Bodhi nudged Luke with his foot as he responded, "It's just been a really enjoyable day." 

"And we might as well keep that going!" the waitress said cheerfully.

"Exactly!" 

As she walked away, Luke groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Does this ever get less embarrassing?" 

"It's only embarrassing because you're embarrassed by it," Bodhi said, reaching for the crusty bread left in the center of the table. 

"How very tautological of you." 

"Look, people have sex," Bodhi said, winning a mental wager with himself when Luke glanced around with wide eyes to confirm what Bodhi already knew—they were tucked in a quiet corner of the restaurant, no diners nearby, no waitstaff approaching. Bodhi felt no compunctions about continuing, "And sometimes they have really kinky sex. That was not what we did, by the way. That was like, Kink 101." 

"Noted," Luke said, his voice full of despair. 

"So you decide whether or not it's something you want to be embarrassed about." Bodhi shrugged and took a bite of the bread. 

Conversation stopped for a minute while they enjoyed the bread. And then the waitress came back with the champagne, they ordered their meal (including an appetizer, and Bodhi was pretty sure he could convince Luke to spring for dessert, too), they ate more bread, and it wasn't until their Twice Baked Vermont Blue Cheese Puffs came that they were left sufficiently alone again.

Bodhi held up a glass. 

Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bodhi…" 

"Come on, Luke," Bodhi chided, waggling his glass at Luke. 

Luke sighed and picked up his glass. 

Bodhi smiled at Luke, thinking—not for the first time, not for the last—how lucky he was to have this kind, patient, good-natured man as his best friend. Right, now, with him resignedly holding up his glass, waiting for Bodhi to say something embarrassing, emphasis on the patient.

Well, Luke would just have to be disappointed on that particular score. "Here's to friends you trust," Bodhi said, raising his glass. "To friendships that last from the horrendous to the sublime. We have walked each other through hell and still came out laughing. May we always bring each other joy. Cheers." 

Luke, his eyes gone suspiciously bright, lifted his glass. "Thank you," he mouthed as they clinked, and then drank. 

Luke grabbed the bottle, and refilled both of their glasses. "My turn," he said, raising his glass. 

Bodhi smiled, braced for sentimentality in return. 

The way Luke's eyes flicked quickly around the room was the only warning Bodhi had before Luke said, "Here's to fucking so hard we can't walk straight afterward." 

Bodhi's loud laugh barked out of him, and he curled himself up on the table, hearing Luke's repressed chortles across from him. 

"You're proud of yourself," Bodhi said, aftershocks of chuckles rolling through him as he looked at Luke's smug face. 

"I am." Luke lifted is chin and sipped some of his glass. "It must be all that self-discovery I've been doing lately." 

"Happy to help," Bodhi said, grabbing another cheesepuff. They were good. 

Luke's amused smile slid into a more contemplative expression. "Do you do this often? Helping people figure themselves out?" 

Bodhi shrugged. "Not too often. A lot of my partners, it's a one night stand, and it is what it is." He chewed his lower lip as he thought. "Those sorts of encounters aren't actually my preference." 

Luke raised his eyebrows and leaned in, curiosity on his face. 

Bodhi reached for his waterglass, feeling oddly vulnerable as he gave himself time to think. "I don't mind it, obviously. And in our line of work, we get a lot of chances for that sort of thing, and I'm sure as fuck not turning them _down_. But I like having regular partners. And I think part of why is, yeah, you know, figuring out what works for people. Trying new things."

"Well, I wouldn't have figured it out without you, so thanks," Luke said, giving Bodhi a small nod. "You've more than earned the dinner." 

Their food arrived, then, and after a few minutes of digging into a really fantastic steak, Bodhi chuckled to himself. 

"Hm?" Luke asked. 

"Ah…" Bodhi hesitated. He and Luke were having a really good day. This _might_ be pushing Luke too far. But the thought was funny, and Bodhi was pretty sure he knew Luke's landmines well enough, by this point. "It occurred to me that this lack of self-knowledge is a dangerous side-effect of marrying your high school sweetheart and having no doubt lovely and fulfilling sex with them and only them." 

"I mean, you did hear the part where you said 'lovely and fulfilling,' right?" Luke said back with a slightly wistful smile. 

Bodhi relaxed internally, knowing that he had judged the situation right. Feeling safe teasing a bit, he added, "Evidence indicates, however, there was a distinct lack of bondage. I'm just saying. This is the sort of thing they should warn young virgins about." 

"I was not—" Luke huffed, sounding adorably pissy. "Dak wasn't even my _high school sweetheart_. We met in college." 

"Close enough."

Luke's tone turned musing. "If anyone was my high school sweetheart, it was Wedge, but I wouldn't really—" 

Bodhi nearly choked on his bite of steak. "Wedge _Antilles?_" 

"You know another Wedge?" Luke asked. 

Bodhi didn't respond, too busy building up speed on his outrage, "The Dragon of Wraith Air. One of the youngest Chief Pilots flying. That Wedge." 

"The one who is my best friend and I've known forever, yes." 

Bodhi interrupted his own outrage to say, "Other best friend." 

"Yes, I have more than one." 

"Anyway, rewind, _Mister Permascowl_ was your boyfriend?" 

"Yeah. Same high school, he was a year ahead of me, we dated my sophomore and junior years and then we broke up when he graduated. It was friendly; we both knew by that point we weren't going to be each other's forever partners. Besides, Embry-Riddle was a long way away." 

"I can't imagine him ever being young…" Bodhi looked off into the distance, attempting the summon the image and failing. "He just has so much gravitas." 

Luke made a helpless gesture. "He looked like himself? But younger? He still had the serious thing going on but he was a lot worse at maintaining it, and he had a car. He was a catch." 

"I don't doubt it…" Bodhi paused, as he put together several other insinuations. "Wait, you two _slept together?_" 

"Why is this such a surprise?" Luke muttered.

Bodhi shrugged. "I mean, I don't know? Because I apparently have some internal biases related to monogamy and virginity I should probably examine?" He shook his head. "Also because this means you've slept with both of your best friends and I'm finding that hilarious for some reason." 

"I was friends with you first," Luke grumbled. "Sex didn't come until later." 

"And that just means I'm invested in the fact that you've maintained a good relationship with your ex. Good to know. Okay," Bodhi leaned in lowering his tone, "who asked who out? Tell me everything." 

Luke gave Bodhi a long, contemplative look. "Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine. Who was your first…boyfriend? Girlfriend? Significant other?" 

"Ooooh." Bodhi gave a delighted smile. "One of _these_ conversations. Very slumber party. Appropriate! You already know the answer, by the way. I hadn't so much as kissed anyone before I joined Rogue Air." 

Luke seemed slightly surprised, but not _very_. "I had wondered…so it was Jyn and Cassian then?" 

"Yep. Very useful, those two, in breaking me out of my shell." Bodhi leaned forward, folding his hands in front of them." Alright, your turn, spill, how did you and Wedge become a thing?" 

Luke rubbed the back of his head. "Tennis." 

"No!" Bodhi gave a delighted smile. "You played tennis? Or wait, did _Wedge_ play tennis?" 

Luke nodded. "We both did. White outfits and all. Wedge was ruthless, and devastatingly handsome, and I had the worst crush…" 

Bodhi sliced another strip off of his steak and leaned in, enjoying the story. 


	9. Dinner, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge is in New York, and there's _someone_ Luke wants him to meet.

Wedge smiled as he caught sight of Luke, pace picking up as his steps carried him past the gate. 

Luke turned and easily matched Wedge's stride, asking, "How was the flight?" as they walked together, heading for the airport exit. 

"Nice to pick up a line flight. Good change from the increased office hours." 

Luke offered him a sympathetic expression, and reached over and patted his shoulder. Once they settled in the back of the cab, Luke asked, "You've been on the job officially for a few months now? How's it been going?" 

Wedge rolled his neck, looking out the window at the city passing by. "Busy. Transition went well. I'm stepping into good shoes. I've gotten some flak for being younger, but I know my stuff and I'm winning them around. What about you?" Wedge turned to look back at Luke.

"Same old, same old, trying to pass on the love of flying to the younger generation." Luke sighed. "I'm an old romantic. Most of them are in it for the lifestyle, but it always brings joy to my heart when I find someone that just really loves to fly." 

"Nothing old to it, you've always been like that."

“And you've always been ambitious. Going to rest on your laurels now? Or keep fighting your way into actual management?" 

Wedge made a face. "I…don't know. I think I'm going to be offered it whether I want it or not…going to have to decide eventually if I like the flying more, or the paycheck."

Luke shook his head. "We are very different people." 

"You ever thought about climbing the ranks more?" Wedge asked. "I've been saying for years you'd make a good TRE." 

Luke shrugged. "I'm content for now. I'm senior enough that I'm paid well and don't have to deal with the bullshit. It's not a bad place to be." 

Wedge gave Luke a wry smile. "I envy your peace, sometimes, you know that?" 

"And I admire your ambition. You want food before you crash?" 

"The meal was pretty late on the flight, I think I'll just steal your shower. Dinner tonight?" 

"Yeah, was wondering, would you be up for doing drinks after with Bodhi?" Luke asked, tilting his head. 

"I…don't see why not? Why do you want me to meet The Replacement?" Wedge asked, giving into his own naturally suspicious nature.

"Mostly so I can get the two of you to refer to each other by name," Luke snapped back with a easy smile. "Seriously, because for once you two are actually around at the same time. I know he's been curious about you…" 

"Sure, I'll meet the guy. Anything I should...know in advance?" 

"No?" Luke shrugged. "He might not even be able to come, I wanted to check with you before I asked him." 

"No, sounds good, let's do it." Wedge nodded. 

Luke's shower was glorious, as always. Wedge smiled as he picked up the 2-in-1 Shampoo and Conditioner Luke had used since high school. A three decade long commitment to a hair product. He had teased Luke about it, sometime in his mid-twenties. 

"I know," Luke had said with a smile. "But it's cheap and people compliment my hair on how it smells. What more could I want?" 

Wedge was coming in to New York from Eastern Europe, he slept hard and long, fuzzily blinking his way awake at about four in the afternoon. Next to him, Gup raised her fuzzy head and looked at him, entirely offended that he dare move while in the same room as her. Wedge grinned in delight and wiggled his fingers. Gup deigned to unfold herself and padded over to him and he spent time doing penance in apology pets. 

Once Gup's voracious appetite for cuddles had been momentarily satiated, Wedge stumbled downstairs. Luke, the saint, had coffee ready. Wedge almost felt human again by the time they slid into the high-backed seats of the pub. 

"How's Gup been?" Wedge asked, after ordering a dark ale and a plate of onion rings for the table. 

There was a bit of a commotion to the side of the table and Wedge looked up, finding their waitress being accosted by a slim man wearing a black leather jacket. "Add a plate of those amazing potato bites to the order, and the Brooklyn Lager for me." 

And then the man, after giving the waitress a wink and a brilliant smile, slid in next to Wedge.

Wedge glared in bafflement at the interloper. 

The interloper was entirely unruffled by his glare. "Wedge! So nice to finally meet you." 

Wedge darted a glance over at Luke, who was giving the newcomer an unimpressed eyebrow raise. "Bodhi," Luke said flatly. "I thought you were meeting us for drinks." 

Bodhi managed to summon a look of vague chagrin. "Yes, well, I had the night free and figured, why wait?" 

"Manners?" Wedge asked. 

He winced, internally. Luke probably wanted him to play nice. He sent Luke a mental apology, but Bodhi had startled him. 

Bodhi looked over at Wedge, settling back in his seat as a slow, toothy smile stretched across his face. "And what exactly were you expecting, a handwritten R.S.V.P.? What a delightfully old-fashioned concept." 

Wedge leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "Waiting to be invited is not at all old-fashioned." 

"Oh, God," Luke said from across from them. It sounded like a prayer. 

"We live in a modern world. You need to move fast to keep with the times. But I suppose there's something to be said for old-world charm. Very keeping with the public image of the Wraith. Such a good company man." 

"Bodhi…" Luke said weakly. 

"And what are you trying to say about Rogue? 'We're rude and brash and need lots of attention’?'" 

"Hey!" Luke kicked at his leg. Wedge ignored him. 

He was having too much fun. 

"Well, I would say bold, daring, forward-thinking, and committed to the importance of the human touch." Bodhi laid a meaningful hand on Wedge's forearm. 

Wedge shook him off, glaring externally. Internally, he had to admit to a bit of a thrill running through him. He had heard the chatter about Bodhi, of course. Even if he hadn't been close to Luke, he probably would have heard of Bodhi. Charming, scandalous, and shameless; Bodhi was a divisive character. Wedge had heard pilots dismiss him as someone who lived to make a scene. Others insisted that he was good-hearted and fun. Wedge had decided that the rumors were all blown out of proportion, and he trusted Luke's judgement.

Well, he had probably been right to trust Luke's judgement, but he was beginning to think that, if anything, the gossip mill had underrepresented just how _much_ Bodhi was.

"And secondly," Bodhi continued, "I'd never hold myself up as the public face of the company. That's a sucker's game. The two of you play it well enough, though."

"Hey!" Luke tried again, this time directed at Bodhi. 

Wedge wondered if Bodhi was getting kicked as well. 

Bodhi tossed a wink across the table. "Luke, darling, it's hardly the time to be playing footsie." 

Luke groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. As Wedge and Bodhi continued their argument—sharp and smiling in the way the best rows were—Luke slid slowly down his seat, looking like he was about to make a serious effort at hiding under the table. 

"Well say what you like about the 787, at least I'm still actually flying the plane. Flying? Remember that? It's my understanding that Airbus pilots don't do too much of that." 

"I'm going to go to the bathroom!" Luke announced quickly, standing up and exiting the table. 

Wedge watched his retreating form, and once he had vanished through the dark wood door, looked back over at Bodhi. "Airbus crack? That's infantile. You're better than that." 

"Yeah, you're right, I am." Bodhi ran his fingers through his hair, giving Wedge a considering smile. "We should probably tone it down, I don't think Luke is enjoying the dinner very much." 

"He never was any good at arguing…" Wedge hesitated, debating his next line. His more sensible self argued for caution. He didn't listen to it, for once. "Give me your number so we can fight about this later." 

Bodhi's hand dropped down to the table, his eyebrows raising. "Well _alright_ then." He reached out his hand and gestured for Wedge's phone. Once he had it, he tossed his phone to Wedge. "Return the favor." 

Wedge plugged in his number, quietly wondering to himself what exactly he thought he was doing. 

"I'm insulted. Luke never told me how _fun_ you were," Bodhi said, trailing his fingers along more of Wedge's skin than Wedge thought was strictly necessary to take his phone back. 

"In fairness to Luke, most people don't get 'fun' off of me." Wedge checked his phone, finding 'Bodhi Rook' now sitting in his contacts.

"Their loss," Bodhi looked up from his own phone, smiled over at Wedge, then tucked it away. "Though I suppose you do have to at least act respectable. Chief pilot and all. Congrats on that, by the way." 

"Thanks." Wedge blinked, caught off guard, saved from answering by the appetizers arriving, Luke following soon after.

"Well, you two haven't killed each other, that's a good sign." Luke glanced from one to the other, warily. 

"We've declared a truce for the sake of your sanity." Bodhi said, gesturing for Luke to sit. "It's safe now, I promise."

Wedge nodded his solemn agreement. 

With a wary stare, Luke slid in across from them. Silence reigned for a few long seconds, before Wedge cleared his throat. "Well, before we were _interrupted_," Wedge shot a meaningful glance at Bodhi, who was wearing a wide-eyed innocent expression, "I asked how Gup was." 

"Luke taught her to play fetch!" Bodhi said, nodding. 

"She's a cat?" Wedge blinked. 

"It's not really fetch," Luke said, "It's more...chase the sock? And sometimes bring the sock back? And sometimes steal socks and bring them to me because she isn't really clear on the concept of fetch." 

"Oh no," Bodhi leaned in, holding up one finger, "Stealing socks doesn't capture the majesty of what's going on. That fuzzy bastard will come up to you, socks fully still on your feet, and just...bite down." 

"On your toes?" Wedge looked at Luke. "You didn't warn me about this." 

"Not on your toes! On the little...flap of sock of above your toes!" Luke protested, like that was _better_. "She just likes socks." 

"That's horrifying." 

"It's hilarious to watch, though." Bodhi grinned. "She's pretty polite about it, like if you nudge her she'll scamper off. She's back a few minutes later, though, trying her luck again. Threep—Luke's neighbor—"

"I know who Threep is." 

"He was so flustered he just...let it happen. It was amazing." 

From there, dinner went well. Bodhi was warm and welcome company, and it was fun to watch his and Luke's back and forth, get a better idea of the shape of their friendship. Bodhi surprised both Wedge and Luke by grabbing the bill. "I did crash, after all. Dessert's on me too, there's a cookie store up the street, I insist." 

After cookies (served with "grown-up milk", aka a broad-variety of milk-based cocktails) Bodhi finally bid them goodnight, sketching an ironic salute to Wedge before stepping forward and hugging Luke. 

"You two don't get into too much trouble!" Bodhi called as he opened the door to his cab. 

"Don't do anything you wouldn't do?" Wedge couldn't help asking, hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

Bodhi paused, his hand on the door, turning to look back at Wedge, his brown eyes dark and knowing, "It wouldn't be the worst way to live a life." With one last waggle of his fingers he got in the cab and Wedge was left staring after it as it vanished down the street. 

"You two seemed to get along?" Luke said, more of a question than a statement. 

Wedge finally turned back to Luke, giving him a slight nod. "I can see why you like him. He's a good one."

Luke sighed in overdramatic relief.

"You thought I wouldn't?" Wedge asked, as they turned to start walking toward the subway. 

"I hoped you would. Some people get caught up on the…" Luke gestured vaguely. "I figured you wouldn't but I did worry, a bit."

"No need to worry." Wedge couldn't help a glance over his shoulder, though the cab had long since faded into traffic. "I wouldn't mind spending more time with him." 

"I might need to get you two to sign a nonaggression agreement first." Luke laid a hand over his heart. "You're bad for my blood pressure."

Wedge laughed, nudging Luke's shoulder as they started to walk back toward Luke's house. "Have to keep life interesting somehow."

* * *

Wedge lay in the guest bedroom of Luke's house, looking at the ceiling. He had spent no small amount of time in this room, taking advantage of Luke's hospitality over the impersonal hotel rooms that featured so heavily in his life story. 

Tonight, though, sleep was longer in coming than usual. Wedge found his mind drawn to his unexpected dinner companion, the heat and the rush of argument. It wasn't how Wedge had expected to spend his evening, but he couldn't say he minded it—leaning in to find Bodhi matching him, ready with a sly smile and a sharp word. 

Wedge wondered if Bodhi had spent time in this bed, too. Almost certainly, there had to have been a late night or two where he decided to crash here instead of make his way back home. Wedge could almost imagine Bodhi between these same sheets. Was Bodhi the pajama wearing sort? 

That thought lead to other, more suggestive thoughts. The very beginnings of arousal sparked in Wedge's belly as his imagination made a lazy circuit around Bodhi's hands and lips and sighs.

Wedge picked up his phone and flicked over to the contacts, staring at the name glaring back on his screen. 'Bodhi Rook.' He put the phone back down and covered his eyes with his palms. "What are you doing, Antilles?" 

Bodhi had a reputation. He was…easy, if the rumors were any indication. Of course, those same rumors insisted that he was fun, discreet, safe, everything you would want in a hook-up. 

Wedge wasn't normally the type of person that wanted a hook-up. But then again, it had been long enough that…who knew what he wanted anymore? 

It hadn't really been _that_ long, the part of his brain that had more pride protested. 

But there was no part of his mind that could convince himself that he wasn't interested in Bodhi. The man was so damn pretty it made Wedge angry, but more than that he was fierce. Wedge felt challenged, alive, he wanted to wrestle Bodhi to the sheets and see who won. 

And...besides. He was in a good place. He could handle not being someone's one-and-only. This could be fun. 

Wedge picked up his phone, thumbing around until he found what he was looking for. 
    
    
    W:Thales designs new A350XWB head-up display 
    
    
    B: ...Hi Wedge.
    
    W: You have my contact in your phone already, I didn't need to say hi.
    
    B: Charmer. Alright, give me a sec.

Wedge drummed his fingers against the bedspread, feeling vaguely impatient until his phone chimed again. 
    
    
    B: Okay, sure, it's a very pretty heads up system. Really makes it easier to look out the window. But - auto-throttle, man. I want an aircraft I can really lean in to, you know? Have the thrust directly in my hands.
    
    W: So do you deliberately make everything sound suggestive, or is it just habit for you at this point?
    
    B: Oh, baby, you haven't seen anything yet...thrust between my fingers, power in the stick, and you'd better believe that after all these years I know exactly how to handle the stick. Sometimes you need a firm grip, other times it's just a gentle squeeze, and I can get exactly the results I want. It's a very satisfying experience

Wedge had to set the phone down for a second and take a steadying breath. It was innuendo so blatant it wandered toward corniness, but, well, it _would_ be a satisfying experience, wouldn't it? He shifted between the sheets and picked up the phone again. 
    
    
    W: Focus.
    
    B: Aw, fine.

Wedge could almost picture his smile—teasing and knowing. He was sidetracked back to his phone when it chimed again. 
    
    
    B: Well, since you insist on being boring, I'll limit myself to saying that I like the yoke better. The Airbus sidestick is *weird*
    
    W: You just say that because you're not used to it. The sidestick becomes intuitive.
    
    B: You probably drive an automatic too, don't you?
    
    W: You live in New York, what do you know about driving?
    
    B: I grew up in England, love. Surely the accent gave it away. Yes, I know how to drive.
    
    W: We drive on the right, over here.
    
    B: Is that why the cars kept honking at me? I had no idea.

Wedge snorted, smile growing on his face as he stared at the screen. He rolled over, curling himself around the phone, and feeling rather ridiculous, kept texting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! They've MET! :D


	10. An International Flirtation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An international flirtation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry for the delay in posting. Life's had some stresses, and now I'm trying to do NaNoWriMo :P Not enough hours in the day! We should be back to our traditional Wednesday-ish posting now.

"Well, fancy meeting you here!" 

Wedge straightened with a start, turning to blink slowly at the form of one grinning Captain Bodhi Rook standing, inexplicably, right behind Wedge. In line for a cup of coffee. In the middle of Zurich International Airport. _In Switzerland._

"When did you land? And how did you find me?" Wedge asked, looking around the little cafe tucked in a remote corner of the airport. It had been his go-to stop since it opened, out of the way enough that it wasn't swarmed by passengers, and sufficiently fortifying to brace him for the upcoming homeward leg.

"Oh, yes Bodhi, nice to see you too, how are you doing?" Bodhi tucked his flight bag in a little closer to his ankles, smoothing out a corner of his sharp Rogue Air uniform. "Been a couple weeks since we ran into each other in Houston." 

"How is it that—" Wedge held up one finger as the register opened up in front of him. "Two coffees, one with cream, the other…" Wedge turned, raising his eyebrows at Bodhi.

"Cream and sugar." 

Wedge turned, nodding. "That'll be it." 

"Wedge Antilles, you are in fucking Switzerland and you're not buying the chocolate?" 

"I bought you coffee. Say thank you." 

"Yes, yes, thank you." As Wedge grabbed his receipt, Bodhi stepped up to the counter and ordered a spread of truffles and tiny pastries. They commandeered a larger table, Bodhi proudly spreading the goodies between them. "Eat up! And thanks." 

Wedge nodded. "Likewise." He had always been curious about their champagne truffles. Wedge grabbed one and popped it in his mouth, sighing in delight as it slowly melted, sweet and dark. He chased it down with some coffee. 

Bodhi was watching him with an amused expression on his face. "Well that looked indecent."

Wedge brushed that off. "As I was saying, how is it that I make it a good two decades into my career never meeting you, then you crash dinner, and then in the last three months I see you in four different airports."

Bodhi grinned. "It's obvious, isn't it? I keep trading around so I can wind up in the same place as you." 

Wedge blinked slowly. "You're stalking me." 

"You're the one that keeps telling me where you're headed. I don't think it counts as stalking if you text me your roster." Bodhi grinned, reaching forward and bumping Wedge's feet with his own. 

Wedge's mouth went dry, wishing that they had more than these passing few hours before Wedge needed to leave. Maybe this would have been the time that he finally invited Bodhi back to his hotel room. 

"Besides," Bodhi continued, "You told me about that sandwich in Chicago, and I have now tried it, and I have _opinions_. I had to find you to tell you."

"Oh, this should be good. Please, tell me what you think of an American classic." 

"Pickled cauliflower? Best sandwich in the United States and you pick one that has pickled cauliflower?" 

"The giardiniera is a classic blend of peppers and veggies and it is a fantastic flavor contrast to the beef." 

"Okay, yeah, the beef was good, I'll give you that. And the au juice?" Bodhi gave a chef kiss with the tips of his fingers. "But still. Pickled. Cauliflower." 

"It's delicious, and it's not my fault if you are too sidetracked by novelty to enjoy the flavor." 

Bodhi leaned in, and Wedge licked his lips. They were building towards something. Wedge knew it, he could read the signs Bodhi was flashing, and he knew he was posting some of his own. But, if Wedge were honest with himself, he was in no rush to get Bodhi alone and naked. 

Wedge liked these dumb arguments. He liked the texts. He had a feeling that once he slept with Bodhi, these moments would go away. Good things didn't last. He was determined to enjoy this one while it did. 

So for now, when Wedge leaned in too, he kept his words sharp and challenging. "Alright then, the floor is yours, what is your personal pick for the winner of the International Sandwich Competition?"

* * *

Bodhi and Luke emerged from the theater, Luke blinking and putting his hand up to block the August sun, glaring at it like he could actually do something about its existence. Adorable, Bodhi thought, as he unhooked his sunglasses from his shirt collar and put them back on. "So, thoughts?" Bodhi asked, as they started walking back to Luke's place. 

"Better than I expected, considering how much the critics panned it." 

"Critics," Bodhi waved his hand dismissively. "It was action trash. We wanted to watch action trash. Stupidly high stakes and chock full of explosions. The question is, were there enough explosions?" 

Luke started counting, index finger against his thumb. "The house exploded when they shot up the stove." 

Bodhi nodded. "The car chase to the airport, at least three cars blew up." 

Luke moved to his index finger. "Two." 

"Four." 

"They were really the same explosion." 

They laughed and bickered their way down the street, settling on seven explosions, and expressing general happiness that the femme fatale actually lived through the movie. 

"He had better chemistry with the guy with the fancy car, though," Bodhi opined. 

"The villain?" Luke asked, with no small amount of judgement in his voice. "He only stopped arguing with the villain long enough to punch him." 

"I stand by my judgement. No shame. Arguing can be really hot."

"I'll take your word for it." Luke sniffed. 

"Speaking of which…" Bodhi chewed his lip. "You know how I see other people?" 

"Yes?" Luke gave him a sidelong glance. "It's still not a problem. And I still don't really want to know." 

"Yeah, and it's my preference to respect everyone's privacy, too." Bodhi wrinkled his nose. "But I think I need to tell you about this one. One of those other people is about to be Wedge Antilles." 

Luke stumbled, and Bodhi caught his elbow, steadying him. He watched emotions flit across Luke's face, confusion, surprise, and a slow blink to understanding. "Ah…" 

"I figured it might be weird for you, so I wanted to give you the heads up…" 

"Yes. Very weird." Luke wrinkled his nose. "While that's going on, we should probably…" 

"Not?" Bodhi asked with a slight smile. 

Luke nodded, still looking a little stunned by the whole concept. 

Bodhi swallowed his disappointment. He had guessed that would be Luke's response. Understandable, probably the right call, but he was still a little sad to be losing out on really excellent sex. "Not a problem." 

Luke cleared his throat. "So. About to be Wedge. Is…Wedge aware of this?" 

Bodhi thought back to the literally hundreds of texts shared between them over the past few months. He thought about the way Wedge's mouth screwed up to hide a smile whenever Bodhi showed up unexpectedly. About the way Wedge's eyes always went soft, no matter how blustery he tried to be. Bodhi thought about the rush of the argument, the way Wedge would lean in, the way he had caught Wedge licking his lips when Bodhi had stretched. 

"I'm...pretty sure he knows."

Luke sighed. 

Bodhi reached out and laid his hand on Luke's elbow. "You doing okay? Relationship adjustments can be tricky. It's okay if you're pissed or jealous or—"

Luke held up his hand. "No," he said incredulously. "No, Bodhi I—" Luke stepped forward, wrapping Bodhi up in a hug. "You are my best friend." He said softly, but still fierce with emphasis. "I'm not pissed, I'm not jealous, I'm grateful. I'm in a better place now, because of you." He pulled back, leaving his hands on Bodhi's shoulders. "But I'm a little worried. I can't pick sides, in this one."

Bodhi softened under Luke's hands. "Luke, baby, I promise, no matter how things go down with me and Wedge, you will not be put in the middle of us. I won't take him to bed if he can't promise the same."

Luke's lips flattened. "I think that was more than I needed to know." He shook his head slightly. "But thank you," he said, looking back up at Bodhi, his blue eyes entirely earnest.

Luke was a better friend than Bodhi deserved, but Bodhi sure as fuck wasn't going to let that stop him from keeping Luke close. "I love you," Bodhi said, reaching out to skim his thumb along Luke's cheek. "You know that, right? Sex, no sex, I love you so damn much." 

"I know. I love you too." Luke patted Bodhi's shoulders and stepped back. He tucked his hands in his pockets with a chuckle. "I'm pretty sure this isn't a normal breakup conversation."

"It's not a breakup. Just redefining the boundaries. I will no longer be serving as your orgasm supplier." 

Luke gave an outraged laugh.

"Yes, hello," Bodhi said, miming holding a phone to his cheek as he started walking toward Luke's house again. "I'd like to order three orgasms and a side of rope bondage, please." 

Luke didn't even flush, anymore, just shook his head and started walking after Bodhi. "It's probably for the best," Luke said after a minute, "I'm not sure I would have ever actually put myself out into the dating game if I still had you on call. And you're great but…" Luke shrugged. 

Bodhi filled in the rest. "You actually like society's traditional full romance package, substitute female for male, please." 

"I don't know…" Luke looked off into the distance, then back to Bodhi. "I guess we'll find out, won't we." 

"I'm kind of excited about this. I'm going to get to give shovel talks. I'll bet I give the best shovel talks." Bodhi flashed a smile, all teeth.

Luke laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet you do." He nudged Bodhi with his shoulder, and Bodhi nudged him back, happy to fall into the familiar steps of their friendship.

* * *

They were in Paris, a beautiful early September sun was playing hide-and-go-seek with the clouds, and Bodhi was tired of waiting for Wedge. 

Bodhi had chased Wedge around the world with good cheer, bantering and snarking and trading texts. Wedge knew Bodhi's coffee order and Bodhi knew Wedge's favorite snacks. They knew each other's favorite approaches, sent each other snapshots from far-flung global locations, and Wedge had even called Bodhi to vaguely bitch about job frustrations (he was too much of a professional to specifically bitch).

They were, all-in-all, building a very solid friendship that Bodhi was enjoying tremendously. With one problem: Bodhi really wanted the chance to strip Wedge out of his uniform. Now, if Wedge had made it clear he'd really like to keep his uniform on, please and thank you, no problem! Except he could read Wedge's body language like an open book, and Wedge definitely wanted to do some stripping of his own.

But he wasn't _saying anything._

And now they were in Paris, Bodhi swapping out his return flight so his three-day turnaround overlapped with Wedge's 48 hours. They were sitting in a cafe, off-duty and out of uniform, sipping coffee in the golden afternoon light. It was lovely, it was romantic, and Bodhi was tired of waiting. 

It was time to nudge. Bodhi put down his cup and leaned in. "So," he asked, grabbing Wedge's attention, "when are you going to sleep with me?" 

Wedge choked on his coffee. 

Bodhi had never been particularly interested in being subtle with his nudging.

"Presumptuous of you," Wedge bit back. 

Bodhi tilted his head. "Not really. And now I'm even more convinced." Bodhi let his tongue dart out over his lips, deliberately provocative. "Here's the thing, darling. I have a well-earned reputation for being very down for casual sex."

"You're saying you're never just friends with people? Always an ulterior motive?" Wedge's eyes were narrowing. 

Bodhi kicked him under the table. "Cheap shot. You know that's not true. But!" Bodhi raised a finger. "You also know my reputation. If you didn't want sex, that would have been the first thing you said to me in the pub, when Luke left to the bathroom. 'I don't care how absolutely gorgeous you are or how tempting your mouth is, we're not sleeping together.'"

"Those are not even close to words I would use." Wedge folded his arms. 

"Fair. But you didn't say anything even vaguely related to that. You remember what you said? 'Give me your number so we can fight about this later.'" Bodhi raised his eyebrows, relishing the flush that showed on Wedge's cheeks. 

"That doesn't mean…" Wedge's sentence stumbled to a stop, he finished it with a glare instead. 

Bodhi smiled. "Sure it doesn't. You've had plenty of other times to say no. Specifically, you've had this whole conversation to say no. And you haven't. But you haven't said yes yet, either, and I'm starting to wonder why."

Wedge's lips were flat, and Bodhi briefly wondered if maybe he was pushing Wedge too far. But Wedge wasn't talking, and it was driving Bodhi up the wall, so he was willing to sit here and wait until Wedge figured out what he wanted to say. 

Bodhi's patience was rewarded when Wedge finally said, "And maybe I just like this bit? Maybe I don't believe in jumping straight to sex?"

Bodhi bit his lip, delight sparking in his stomach. He hadn't been expecting that to be the justification. "Wedge! Are you a romantic? You should have said so sooner. I can absolutely wine and dine you. I'm very good at both wining and dining." 

Bodhi had expected Wedge to get flustered, maybe try some more bluster. But instead, Wedge shut down, folding his arms across his chest and looking away. 

Bodhi gave a mostly-internal sigh. "Or not?" Bodhi tried, reaching forward to bump his foot against Wedge's ankle. "I'm seeing that you're not thrilled with that idea. I'm not psychic, I need words to know what you're thinking."

"I can buy my own damn dinner," Wedge muttered. "I don't need all that." 

"So what do you want?" Bodhi sighed. "This is fun, I'm enjoying this, but I figured we were heading somewhere, and we seem to have stalled out. So this is me jump-starting things. But I can't do that unless I know what you want."

Wedge's shoulders slumped, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I want…to pay for our meal." Wedge stood up from the table. 

Bodhi blinked, feeling wrong-footed, and realized that he might have misread the situation. His stomach dropped. "Wedge, if you don't want me to—"

Wedge finished getting to his feet, and then his mouth curled into an absolutely beautiful smile. "And then I think I want to take you back to my hotel room," Wedge continued. 

"Oh!" Bodhi's gnawing doubt evaporated, washed over entirely by a surge of excitement. "I thought—"

Wedge shook his head. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to get my hands on you," Wedge tilted his head, something wistful entering his expression. "I was just enjoying the lead-up. But you're right, it was starting to turn into leading you on. And we're really not going to do better than an afternoon in Paris, now are we?" 

Bodhi laughed, and pushed back his chair. "That, admittedly, did make me want to push things. The whole place oozes romance." He held up his hands. "Not that I'm saying you need all that." 

Wedge gave a rough chuckle. "It's not all bad. Come on, let's get out of here." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sexy cliffhanger, the best kind :D 
> 
> Thank you all, by the way, for your kind comments, excited noises, and general rambling. I've really been enjoying getting to know some of you through this, and it really does add to the excitement, each and every time I post. *blows a kiss* Much love to you all.
> 
> Oh! Also, I have a question for all of you - chapter titles? Now that the fic is getting longer, would having referential chapter titles of dubious quality help? I was pretty committed to numerical naming in the beginning, but I realize it's not helpful for navigation. So please, weight in - do you use the chapter titles to navigate through fics?


	11. Parisian Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge keeps telling himself this isn't a big deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The votes are in, and we now have chapter titles! I may in the future regret making more work for myself, but it is easier to remember which chapter is which, now.

Wedge fought down the nerves spiking in his belly as he swiped the keycard and gestured Bodhi through the doorway. 

From the moment Bodhi texted, saying that he was in Paris too and asking if they could they meet up for a light lunch, Wedge knew that the timing was right. This would probably be the time that he actually said something. But then, they were sitting in the cafe together, eating exceptional tarts and drinking run of the mill coffee as they swapped 'worst passenger' stories. The chat had been fun and easy, and Wedge hadn't been able to bring himself to move the relationship along to between the sheets. 

It hadn't mattered, though, because Bodhi had pushed, and Wedge couldn't really deny that it was time. There had been a razor-quick moment of sorrow, that the chase was over, followed by a wry amusement that he had been chased at all. The amusement had quickly bloomed into anticipation, as Bodhi had tucked his hand in the crook of Wedge's elbow and suggested they walk to Wedge's hotel, it was a lovely day. 

Pressed close along Wedge's side, speaking too softly to be heard by the passing tourists, Bodhi had handled the sex chat with an ease that Wedge could only envy. He had trouble, putting his wants into words, and Bodhi navigated around that deftly, with a teasing good grace that made Wedge all the more excited. 

Bodhi had ducked into a corner store and ordered that Wedge wait outside, refusing to disclose the contents of the bag when he emerged. The anticipation had built and built, until they were here, and Bodhi was pushing his way into Wedge's hotel room, winking at Wedge as he went. 

Wedge followed Bodhi into the room, wondering what would happen next. Clothes off, down to business? Most of the people Wedge had fucked had been like him, driven, used to getting what they want with as little fuss as possible. But Bodhi seemed to be the farthest thing from that, easy and confident in himself, in a way that put no demands on the other person. Wedge had no idea what was coming next, and he had to admit, he liked it that way. 

Bodhi wandered over to the window and pulled the rod so that both the blackout curtain and the gauzy white one behind it were tugged aside, and the mellow afternoon sunlight came streaming in. Wedge's breath caught as Bodhi moved into the light. The sun kissed his hair and skin, throwing him into contrast, golden bright and shadowed, the ridiculous line of his cheek and jaw utterly breathtaking. He turned back to Wedge, and the sun danced along his skin, catching at his eyelashes, the ridge of his nose, the curve of his lips. 

Bodhi smiled in that light, and Wedge could feel his heartbeat speed up, thudding hard inside his chest. 

"Wedge! This view!" Bodhi exclaimed, delighted. He turned back to the window, as he said, "It's beautiful." 

Oh, it was. 

Wedge crossed the room, coming up behind Bodhi, the only view he cared about was one that was much more tangible. Bodhi half-turned to meet him, slight shock in his eyebrows at how close Wedge was, so quickly. Wedge reached out, laying his hand on Bodhi's jaw, and pulling him in for a kiss. 

It was nonsensical, the idea that you could taste sunlight, but as he drank in the sensation of Bodhi's lips and mouth, all sweet and warm, Wedge could think of no description more appropriate. 

Wedge backed Bodhi up against the window, stealing from his mouth a helpless little groan with the movement. Wedge was hungry, greedy, desperate for more. His hands found Bodhi's ribs, then waist, soft fabric of Bodhi's sweater smoothing under his hands as they roamed. He traced the cloth down, then back up, his palms rucking up the sweater to find Bodhi's skin, warm and waiting for him. 

Bodhi gave a muffled noise of pleasure, his own hands finding Wedge's ass and hauling him closer, rocking Wedge up against him in a gyrating rhythm that had Wedge seeing stars. He broke off the kiss, making an impatient noise as he tugged Bodhi's sweater up and off of Bodhi's chest, hauling the shirt along with them. He threw them to the side, and paused for a moment, looking at the shape of Bodhi, silhouetted against the window, his eyes going from the fuzz at Bodhi's navel, up his slim waist to his chest, then finally to his eyes, lust-dark but bright with delight. 

"Yeah," Wedge said, his voice rough with want. "You're beautiful." 

Bodhi laughed, then pulled Wedge back in again. They kissed and undressed in front of the open window; twelve stories up, it was unlikely anyone could see them. Yet, there was still a thrill to it, to strip Bodhi down in the light that loved him so much. 

Wedge thought of his body more in terms of utility, than beauty. It did what he needed it to do, it was strong enough to go out into nature, could carry him over rough ground and high cliff faces. Besides, a fit pilot was a happy one—keeping in good condition helped with stress and jet lag. He vaguely knew he was attractive enough to draw some attention, but he felt more comfortable being admired for what he did, rather than what he looked like. 

As Bodhi's hands deftly removed his layers, Wedge had a moment of self-consciousness. He was suddenly remembering all the bits of himself that he preferred covered up: the faded purple birthmark along his ribs, an old scar from his pre-teen appendectomy, a newer scar along his thigh from a fall while climbing. 

Wedge wasn't able to stay self-conscious for long, though, not with Bodhi wrapping himself around Wedge. As Bodhi's clever hands snuck their way inside Wedge's his boxers, Wedge found it was impossible to fret about a few blemishes. Bodhi certainly didn't seem to mind, if the appreciative noises that came from his mouth were any indication. 

"Oh, fuck, Wedge, baby," Bodhi said, as his fingers closed around Wedge's cock, and Wedge's knees nearly went out as he distantly thought that _Bodhi_ was not the person that should be saying that. Wedge impatiently pushed his boxers down, then grabbed for Bodhi's (red and silken, and Wedge almost hated how well that worked for him), and finally they both were bare.

Bodhi was gorgeous, still, always, the light soaking him from calves to crown without interruption. Wedge didn't know where to look, from the cut of his hips to the curve of his ass to his already-hard cock. Wedge gave up on looking and touched, reaching for him. 

"I can't believe you've been hiding all that," Bodhi shivered at the first brush of Wedge's fingers, looking Wedge up and down, "under your uniform this whole time. You're stunning." Bodhi licked his lips and leaned in. "Can I blow you?" he asked, like there was actually a chance that Wedge might say no. "Please?" 

Wedge briefly regretted his assent when Bodhi pulled back. But he quickly found the corner store bag and returned, emerging with a box of condoms. Before Wedge properly realized what was happening Bodhi had him backed up to the window, and just as his ass hit the sun-warmed glass, Bodhi sank to his knees in front of Wedge. 

"Fuck," Wedge said quietly. 

Bodhi smiled up at him through his lashes, those wide dark eyes of his playful as he said, "Hair pulling is fine, you can fuck my mouth, stop if I do this." Bodhi tapped the outside of Wedge's hip three times. "Got it?" 

"Fuck," Wedge said again, slowly running his fingers through the hair at Bodhi's crown.

"I suppose that's one word for it," Bodhi said as he started to unwrap the condom. "But I am actually going to need verbal confirmation, darling." 

Wedge managed to pull himself together enough to say, "Got it, three—" and then Bodhi slid the condom on and Wedge briefly forgot how to speak. He tapped his own hip. 

"Excellent," Bodhi said, and then swallowed him down. 

Wedge was briefly worried that he'd have a very poor showing, considering how on-edge he was already, and how gorgeous Bodhi's mouth was. He didn't take Bodhi up on his offer to fuck his mouth, he was worried that if he moved his hips at all he'd wind up spent and done. Thighs trembling, he leaned back, the back of his head against the glass of the window, and let Bodhi work as he pleased. 

Bodhi seemed to catch the spirit of things, letting his mouth move fast and slow in turn, working Wedge up and then backing him off the edge. His hands traced patterns along Wedge's hips and thighs. Wedge's eyes grew heavy and slid shut, he gave himself over to tactile sensation, the sun warming his back, the gentle lines of Bodhi's fingers, the delight of Bodhi's mouth. Wedge's breath deepened and slowed, he was as relaxed as he could remember being in...ages, no task that needed to be accomplished other than feeling pleasure.

Bodhi's hands roved, finding the back of Wedge's knees, a surprisingly sensitive spot that had Wedge moaning, then up along the back of Wedge's thighs, Wedge's toes curling and thighs tensing as those fingers went up, stroking along his crack. Wedge went up on his toes slightly as Bodhi teased his fingers along Wedge's ass. 

Bodhi gave an amused hum, and pulled off of Wedge's cock. "No?" he asked, dropping his hand down slightly to drum his fingers along the top of Wedge's thigh. 

Wedge forced his legs to relax, settling his heels back against the carpet. "Not…no, just…"

Bodhi tilted his head to the side, laying a casual kiss along Wedge's hip before asking, "Not good? Too much?" 

"The second," Wedge said, "It's fine, can we just…" 

Bodhi's eyes went half-hooded, as he, telegraphing his movements clearly, stroked his hand back up between Wedge's legs. Wedge forced his legs to stay relaxed, but couldn't stop the way his stomach tightened, half in nerves, half in anticipation. 

Bodhi hummed, rocking back on his heels. "Darling, feel free to just stuff your cock back in my mouth to shut me up…" 

Wedge coughed and looked down, to find Bodhi grinning up at him, mischief in his eyes. "...but I was thinking…" His fingers curled, starting to press between the cheeks, and Wedge bit his lip, trying to keep from reacting and not entirely certain what he felt he had to prove. "…it's been awhile, since you trusted someone to give you this." 

Wedge considered doing as Bodhi suggested, grabbing that dark hair and shoving his cock back in that red mouth. But that would be running away, and he knew it. More importantly, Bodhi would know it, and Wedge didn't want Bodhi to think he was _scared_ or anything like that. "It has been awhile," he allowed. 

Bodhi hummed, then pressed another kiss against Wedge's thigh. "So…do you want it?"

'No,' was the word that was almost on Wedge's lips, but something held it back. Did he want to be fucked? It had been…five years? More? At least that long since, as Bodhi put it, he had trusted someone with that. 

"Do you trust me?" Bodhi asked, his voice heavy with suggestion. 

Wedge swallowed. Did he? Did he trust Bodhi enough for that sort of vulnerability? He reached down, grabbing Bodhi's chin, and tugging up until Bodhi got the idea, shifting until he could stand in front of Wedge again. When they stood, eye to eye with each other, Wedge said, "Not in the slightest." 

The look Bodhi gave him carried a question, and Wedge answered in movement, pushing at Bodhi's shoulder. Bodhi let himself be turned, moved, and Wedge kept him close until Wedge could fall backwards onto the plush bed and pull Bodhi down on top of him. Wedge threaded his fingers through Bodhi's hair and kissed him on the sun-dappled white blankets, wrapping his legs around Bodhi's hips. 

"Not at all," Wedge said when Bodhi drew back for a breath. "But why should that stop me?" 

Bodhi gave Wedge a smile that held such fondness Wedge's first instinct was to assume it was for someone else. "You don't back down from many challenges, do you?" 

"And I don't see any reason to start now." Wedge smirked, thrusting his hips up to grind against Bodhi. 

They kissed a little longer, heat slowly building as they rocked together. The rays from the window turned more and more golden as the sun sank in the sky, the whole moment feeling ethereal. 

"You're made for this light," Wedge said, too far drunk on pleasure to censor his speech. "It adores you." He reached up and ran his finger along the shell of Bodhi's ear, enjoying the way Bodhi's eyes went dark. 

"A poet," Bodhi said, softly wondrous, leaning down to kiss Wedge gently. "I never would have guessed."

When Bodhi climbed off of him, Wedge shivered, nerves mounting as Bodhi grabbed the bag, out of Wedge's sight as Wedge heard the crinkling of wrappers and the sound of a bottle opening. He twisted, trying to see where Bodhi was, and was surprised to find that he had come back to perch next to Wedge's head, running his fingers through Wedge's hair affectionately. 

"You have a preference? Stomach, back?" 

Wedge shook his head. 

"Let's go with you on your back, then. Angle's a little more awkward, but I'd like to be able to see your face." He wiggled a hand between the bed and Wedge's lower back, lifting slightly as he said, "Hips up!" 

Unthinking, Wedge arched off the bed, was surprised to find a pillow slid under his back. Some of the confusion must have shown on his face because Bodhi smiled and said, "It's more comfortable, I've found." 

He started to shuffle his way over between Wedge's legs, and Wedge felt off-balance, too open. He had to fight the urge to close his legs, protect himself. 

This was ridiculous, he informed himself seriously, as he fought back a shiver from the first touch of Bodhi's legs against his inner thighs. This was just sex. An attractive man in his bed and the chance to try something new. It wasn't anything worth getting worked up over.

If he could only get his body to agree. 

Bodhi's hand was on his knee, thumb tracing back and forth over the small bump at the edge of Wedge's kneecap. "Doing alright?" 

Wedge didn't know what Bodhi was reading on his face, his body, but he put on a confident expression. "Let's go." 

Bodhi's gave a crooked smile, squeezing Wedge's knee. "Let me know if it's not working for you. I want us both to feel good at the end of this." 

A tightness that Wedge hadn't even realized was in his chest relaxed. This was the difference between Bodhi and everyone else Wedge had politely turned down. He and Bodhi fought, all quick smiles and sharp tongues, but at the end of the day it wasn't really about who won. It was about mutual pleasure. It was about trust.

"I trust you," Wedge said, "Go ahead." 

Bodhi smiled as he slid his hands up Wedge's thighs. "Changed your mind quickly." 

"You're very persuasive," Wedge said with a chuckle. He could feel himself relaxing, as Bodhi trailed his fingers along Wedge's thighs, and Wedge barely had to think before he opened his legs a little wider and canted himself toward Bodhi. 

The tremble of worry, the little voice that insisted he was being too vulnerable kicked up again as Bodhi slowly pressed fingers inside of him. The stretch was too-tight and uncomfortable, but Bodhi worked slowly and gently, and somewhere along the line Wedge stopped feeling a burn, and pleasure started to build. 

As it grew the voice quieted, fading to nothing against the more urgent need to have Bodhi move like _that_ and touch him _there, more_. Wedge started thrusting in counterpoint to Bodhi's fingers, chasing the particular intimacy of someone moving inside him. 

Bodhi pulled his fingers out, and Wedge groaned at the absence, but a second later there was something broad and blunt teasing at his entrance. Wedge hooked a heel around Bodhi's thigh and nudged him forward. 

"I'm getting there," Bodhi teased, and then thrust in. 

It was good, good in a way that defied words, good in a way that didn't need words. It was Bodhi pressing in and around him, it was movement and friction and heat, it was the way the sun's glow warmed their bodies, the way the shadows moved with them. 

Bodhi's hand reached for Wedge's cock, but Wedge moved faster, gripping Bodhi's wrist and holding it away, "You first," Wedge gasped, shuddering as another slow building wave of pleasure moved through him. "I'm too close." 

Bodhi groaned and reached for Wedge, cupping the back of his head and pulling him up so that Bodhi could lay an artless kiss at the corner of Wedge's mouth. Bodhi pulled Wedge's forehead up against his own as he thrust faster, close enough that Wedge could hear the way Bodhi's breathing went tight and shallow, until he crashed into Wedge with a gasp and Wedge could feel Bodhi pulsing inside him. 

Wedge brought his hand up to the back of Bodhi's head, tucking him up against Wedge's neck as Bodhi went boneless on top of Wedge. Wedge was still half-blind with need, but even through his ache he wanted Bodhi's weight against his chest, wanted the intimacy of Bodhi tucked against him. 

A few heaving breaths later, Bodhi pushed back again, just far enough to catch Wedge's eyes. Still sheathed inside him, as Bodhi grabbed his cock and started to stroke. Wedge's breath hitched, and he struggled up to his elbows, Bodhi's eyes never leaving his. 

Wedge was captivated by the sun's light reflected golden, as Bodhi held Wedge's gaze, his deft hand built Wedge's pleasure. There was a challenge in the look, and a promise, and even as Wedge felt the tension build in his body he couldn't bring his eyes to leave Bodhi's. 

Wedge's need grew more and more concentrated, drawn up along his thighs and low in his belly, until his entire world was made up of Bodhi's hands and Bodhi's eyes. Wedge fought to keep from spilling, wanting to stretch this liminal bliss out as long as possible. 

And then Bodhi's hand twisted, and it was too much. Wedge's eyes slid shut and his head dropped backward. His breath heaved before he came with a shout, his whole body arching in surrender to pleasure. 

Wedge went limp, afterwards, falling back against the bed, feeling thick and slow. Like he had just reached a campsite after a hard climb and was collapsing into the clearing. He felt wrung-out, pushed hard, and accomplished, wrapped in lazy bliss.

Vaguely, he realized Bodhi was moving, pulling out of Wedge in a careful slide. Wedge couldn't quite smother a hitched whine of disappointment, an emptiness left when he used to be filled. Bodhi gave a little smile and patted his thigh, before sliding off the bed without a word. 

Bodhi walked off in the direction of the bathroom, and as Wedge watched him go, all the unease that had vanished since he had strode across the room to kiss Bodhi came crashing back in. 

What was he doing? _What was he doing?_

He had just let Rogue's most notorious Captain fuck him senseless, and now—Wedge shifted, getting his ass off the pillow and struggling to sit upright—now he had to face the fact that Bodhi was going to get dressed and go. 

He _knew_ that Bodhi wasn't in this long term, and that was…what it was. But Wedge should have known better than to get so carried away. He had spread his legs and said, 'I trust you,' to someone who thought of Wedge as nothing more than a particularly interesting notch on his bedpost. This had been a mista—

"You didn't have to move," came Bodhi's voice, as he moved through the room back to the bed. "I was just grabbing us some towels. The person who does the fucking gets the towels, it's just polite." Bodhi nodded seriously as he climbed back onto the bed next to Wedge and handed a warm, damp towel over to him. 

Wedge swallowed, taking the towel, and started to clean himself up. Bodhi flopped down next to him with a noise that sounded more like a purr than anything else, a hand casually thrown out to rest against Wedge's hip. "Thank you, darling, that was phenomenal."

Wedge licked his lips, suddenly off-balance as the suspicious bastard in his head was faced with Bodhi's casual sprawl and affectionate touching. "You're welcome? Thank you?" He asked, more than said, as he finished cleaning and set the wet towel aside, finding a dry one waiting for him. 

"I'll take both," Bodhi said indulgently. "Enjoy yourself?" 

Wedge started drying himself off, shooting a glance over to Bodhi. Bodhi was staring at the ceiling, slight smile on his face, looking for all the world like a cat in a sunbeam. "I did." Wedge stretched, and let the stretch tip him backwards, until he lay on his back next to Bodhi. 

Wedge took a slow breath in and out. He licked his lips, trying for casual as he said, "Hope I was at least a memorable notch in your bedpost." 

Bodhi snorted next to him, and the bed rustled as he rolled, propping himself up on one elbow to look down on Wedge. "It's not…about that. Of course you're memorable, but nobody's carving notches. It's just about enjoying each other." Bodhi reached out, trailing the tip of his index finger along Wedge's nose. "However it makes the most sense for us." 

Wedge blinked, caught off guard by the earnestness in Bodhi's voice. He was used to Bodhi being charming, glib, and scandalous. None of that made an appearance now. He was just being…honest. "Sorry," Wedge muttered, looking away, feeling abruptly like he had cheapened the moment. 

Bodhi chuckled, tapping the tip of Wedge's nose and pulling his hand away. "No worries," he said, his tone light, no hurt in it that Wedge could hear. "The assumption comes with the territory, you're not the first. But it's never been about that, for me."

"Sorry…" Wedge said again, not sure what else to say. "It's not…me either."

Bodhi seemed to understand what Wedge was trying to say. "I'm glad," he said, with an indulgent smile. "So…up for a cuddle? Or is that not your bag?"

Wedge bristled. Some part of his psyche protested that he had been getting ready to have a good defensive sulk about being loved and left, and then Bodhi went and brought towels and was effortlessly honest and then suggested that _Wedge_ was the one who wouldn't want to savor the afterglow. 

Wedge reached out, pulling Bodhi against his chest more aggressively than was strictly necessary, wrapping himself around Bodhi, his chest to Bodhi's back. Bodhi gave a quiet squeak of surprise as he was forcibly little-spooned, but after a second of wiggling, melted back against Wedge. 

"Why would you think I don't cuddle?" Wedge asked, still feeling prickly and defensive. 

"Dragon of Wraith Air?" Bodhi said, sounding amused as he pressed a little closer, adjusting the grip of Wedge's arm. "Didn't seem like a particularly cuddly reputation." 

"Nobody calls me that." 

Bodhi snorted. "Liar. Two months ago, Lima, Wes Janson bullied five different baby First Officers by whispering dramatically, 'Watch out, the Dragon is coming!' right to your face. I was like, five feet away at the time." 

"Buying a new pair of sunglasses," Wedge said with a wince. He had forgotten Bodhi had heard that.

"Mmmhmmm. So, _Dragon_ you can see why I perhaps may have gotten the impression that you weren't one for the softer side of things." 

Wedge leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the back of Bodhi's head, gentle and soft. "You were wrong." 

Bodhi gave a happy sigh. "I am seeing that, much to my deli…igh—" Bodhi was interrupted by a yawn. "Delight. You going to be offended if I fall asleep for a bit? Afternoon orgasms make me sleepy." 

"Not at all," Wedge said, flattening his palm against Bodhi's chest and hitching him closer in a possessive gesture. 

Bodhi hummed happily and wriggled closer. Wedge watched with impossible fondness as Bodhi's breathing deepened and evened out, until he fell asleep in Wedge's arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The REAL fantasy: lazy afternoon naps. :D


	12. Dodger Blue, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi and Wedge enjoy Paris at night.

Bodhi woke up to find that the romantic afternoon sun had set. He blinked, disoriented, not sure how long he had been out for, peering into the darkened room. His legs were a little cold, but his core was blazing warm, Wedge's firm body pressed along his back, Wedge's arms still holding him close. 

Bodhi smiled with the recollection, shifting his legs to try to steal a little more body heat. Wedge was such a beautiful puzzle, defensive and vulnerable in turns, gruff but capable of such tenderness. Not to mention he had really great arms. 

However, comfortable arms or no comfortable arms, Bodhi's stomach was not going to take him lounging about in bed much longer. It was time to escape, and Bodhi tried to wiggle free. He was unsuccessful, as Wedge's arms tightened and pulled Bodhi further back against him. Wedge's breath stayed low and even, a hot brand against Bodhi's neck. So, even unconscious, Wedge wanted him close. 

Sweet, but didn't change the hunger pangs. He had a power bar in his bag, he just needed to—

Wedge made a grumpy noise of protest, stirring enough to lay his lips against Bodhi's neck. 

"I'm hungry," Bodhi protested. 

"Me too," Wedge said, his voice thick with sleep as he traced his hand down Bodhi's chest to his belly. Wedge shifted and— 

Oh, his voice wasn't the only thing that was thick. Bodhi shifted back instinctively, and Wedge stifled a groan as his cock was pressed along the smooth skin of Bodhi's upper thigh. Bodhi felt his skin start to wake up, excited, a new sort of hunger awakening and overriding the more prosaic kind, helped along by Wedge's fingertips, now playing at the head of Bodhi's rapidly-thickening cock.

"Round two?" Wedge asked, his voice nearly a growl. 

Well, Bodhi certainly wasn't going to say no to that. 

Wedge barely let Bodhi move, pinning him in place on his side as Wedge rummaged behind him. The snap of a bottle cap, some muttered fumbling, and just as Bodhi was about to suggest they separate, Wedge's hand returned. It was warm and slick around Bodhi's cock as his erection slid between Bodhi's thighs. There wasn't anything refined about it, this lubed-up thrusting, thick heat sliding along his balls and blazing tightness around his cock. But it didn't need to be refined; there was electric friction between his thighs, a warm arm braced along his chest, a body moving at his back. There was hunger and heat and simple joy. 

Wedge bit down on Bodhi's shoulder. With a gasp, Bodhi arched and spilled in Wedge's hand, and a second later he felt the fluttering pulse of Wedge between his thighs. Wedge thrust lazily, a few more times, mouthing more gently at the skin of Bodhi's shoulder blades. Eventually he slowed and stilled, laying one last kiss against the bruised-feeling skin. 

"You've got freckles," Wedge mumbled in the afterglow, nuzzling Bodhi's shoulder and hitching him closer. 

Bodhi laughed, helplessly charmed. "I do." 

They cuddled in the dark room for a few more minutes, before the silence was broken by Bodhi's stomach rumbling. Wedge huffed a laugh against Bodhi's shoulder. "Food?" 

"Yes. Share the shower before we go out?" 

"I was just thinking we could just order room service," Wedge said, his voice heavy with suggestion as he nuzzled against Bodhi's shoulder again. 

Bodhi snorted. "Nice try. We're in fucking Paris. I'm not ordering room service. Besides," he said over Wedge's grumbling as he escaped the (admittedly very pleasant) cage of Wedge's arms, "We're not twenty anymore. I'm going to need a bit of a recharge before we go again." Bodhi winked at Wedge and ambled toward the bathroom. 

Halfway through Bodhi's shower Wedge tugged the curtain aside and stepped in himself. Bodhi grinned and scooted to share the spray. The hotel shower gel made luxurious suds as they soaped each other up, a clean sharp citrus scent filling the room. Wedge was gorgeous, all lean athletic muscle, the sort of body honed in adventure. Compact, intimidating, a few rakish scars that raised questions about how he had earned them. Bodhi ran his washcloth down the length of Wedge's neck, over the slope of his shoulders, down along the knobs of his spine, his deliciously tight ass. 

Bodhi's cock twitched in interest, not at all helped when Wedge shifted his stance, leaning forward to brace one hand against the shower wall, letting the spray cascade down his back as he pushed back against Bodhi's hand. 

Bodhi smacked Wedge's ass, hard enough to sting a bit. Wedge yelped and straightened, throwing an offended glance over his shoulder. 

"No," Bodhi said firmly, "I need food." 

"Was stretching," Wedge muttered, a dull red flush showing along his shoulders. "Can't even stretch in the shower without being harassed." 

Bodhi rolled his eyes, grabbing Wedge by the chin and dragging him around to face Bodhi. He kissed Wedge, a brief, warm press of lips together. "Nice try. You want me to wash your hair?" 

It took more self-control than Bodhi had expected to exit the shower and not immediately tumble Wedge back down into bed. But focused thoughts of seared duck and red wine managed to get him back in his clothes, pleased when Wedge followed him out the door. They caught a taxi and Bodhi sweet-talked the driver in his rudimentary French to find them a good dinner spot. 

They wound up in a little restaurant, on an outdoor patio overhung with an old beech tree, white lights glittering in the dark of its branches, providing backdrop illumination to the mellow glow of the candles. Bodhi folded his arms and surveyed the scene. "If this is too romantic for you, we can find somewhere else," he said, a little hint of challenge in his voice. 

Wedge responded exactly as expected. "It's fine," he said brusquely, before stepping forward and pulling out a chair for Bodhi with obnoxious grace. Bodhi flashed him a smile and fluttered his eyelashes. Wedge snorted, looking aside with a small echoing twist to his own lips. 

The wine was fantastic, the starter was divine, and the food just got better from there. They split a bottle of red and traded bites of duck and gratin and chocolate mousse and crème brûlée, which Wedge pronounced with such an irritating French accent that it had Bodhi threatening to hit Wedge with a napkin. Wedge made up for it by requesting the check and handling payment in such flawless French that it left Bodhi blinking. He was so stunned it took him a good ten seconds to realize that Wedge's debit card had disappeared alone in the hands of the helpful waiter. 

"I was planning on splitting, and _where did that come from?_"

Wedge smiled, rolling his shoulder. "My German's pretty good too."

"Less romantic. I can't believe you let me try to order our taxi. Bastard."

Wedge chuckled, but as Bodhi watched, his expression fell from their bantering good cheer to something more wistful. It was a mirror of the expression Bodhi had seen at the cafe. "You doing okay?" Bodhi asked, unable to keep from exploring the strange mood. 

"Yes. Just...realizing I'm going to miss this." 

Bodhi cocked his head to the side. "We can come back to Paris, if you're really feeling the need to show off your French." 

Wedge shook his head. "No," he said dismissively. 

Bodhi folded his hands and leaned in, letting the silence do the talking. He had learned the trick from his therapist. Full of good advice, those folks, both verbal and non-verbal. It worked just as well on Wedge as it had on Bodhi, after a minute he gestured between himself and Bodhi, "This. You're not going to keep switching your schedule around now that..." He shrugged. 

Bodhi pulled back his eyes narrowing. "Wait. What. Do you think I'm just going to drop you?" 

Wedge's mouth pressed into a thin line. 

"You frustrating idiot." Bodhi did throw his napkin at Wedge then. "I don't—I already told you this isn't about notches and bedposts." 

Wedge reared back, looking affronted at the napkin, then he looked up and his eyes widened as he caught wind the storm brewing inside Bodhi. "I know!" Wedge protested. "But still, the chasing me around the world, the lunches, the arguing..."

"Yeah?" Bodhi spread his hands out in a baffled challenge, "I like them too. What of it?" 

"It's not like...now that we're..." 

Bodhi threw up a frustrated prayer to the patron saint of emotionally repressed men, whoever that was. "Now that we've fucked. Yes?" 

"Even if we meet up again it'll be for...look, I enjoy the sex, it's not a problem, there's just a part of me that's going to miss the lead-up. That's all. I don't know why you're so pissed at me." Wedge folded his arms and looked off to the side, saying more quietly. "I'm not as easy around people as you are. Or Luke. That sort of thing. I don't usually enjoy someone's company this much. Sorry if I got the wrong idea."

"You...like me? You're upset because you like me?" Bodhi tried out the words. 

"That sounds juvenile." 

"But does it sound wrong? Wedge, you're my friend. Say the word and I'll turn off the sex, and you'd better believe that's not going to stop me from hunting you down to chat. Even with the sex. I'm still—" Bodhi gestured around in frustration. "Do you really think that's the only thing I care about?" he asked, sounding more plaintive than he would have liked.

Wedge opened his mouth, then closed it in an angry snap. "I don't know!" he said a minute later. "You show up out of nowhere with a grin and an argument, you hunt me down around the world to flirt! I don't actually know you all that well, I'm sure you can see how I would have drawn the _very reasonable_ conclusion that you had a specific end goal in mind?" 

Bodhi collapsed against the chair as some of the anger bled out of him. "I'm not...the last few months haven't been some epic planned seduction, Wedge. I just like hanging out with you. It's fun to show up and argue about sandwiches for a bit. Makes life more interesting." 

Bodhi sighed, reaching out to grab one of Wedge's arms, still folded in a defensive cross across his chest. He pulled until Wedge's right hand untucked and then he took it between both of his. "Darling, honestly, you know me pretty well. What you see is what you get." He paused, as a terrible thought occurred to him. "You did actually want to have sex, right?" 

"Yes," Wedge said quickly enough that Bodhi sighed in relief. Wedge moved his thumb, stroking along the delicate skin between Bodhi's index finger and left thumb. "I did. And still do." 

"Well that's one crisis averted, then," Bodhi said, trying out a cautious smile. "Good news, I also want to have more sex. But in additional good news, I also have made plans to find out what your favorite sports team is and start cheering for the opposition, so we'll always have something easy to argue about." 

Wedge laughed, shaking his head a tiny bit. "San Francisco Giants, but if you start rooting for—" 

"Hey I know this one! Dodger blue, baby." 

"This might be too great a betrayal for our friendship," Wedge said with mock-seriousness, trying to pull his hand back and glaring.

"Aw, I'll just have to really make the benefits part worth your while, won't I? Don't worry, when the Dodgers win, I'll give you an amazing blowjob to take your mind off of it."

"When the—do you even know how the Dodgers are doing this season?"

"Honey, right now I don't even know when baseball season _is_, but don't worry, I'm a very fast learner." 

Wedge bit his lip and looked at Bodhi, seeming like he was trying to hold back a smile. Something about the expression made Bodhi's heart sing. He supposed he could forgive Wedge not knowing him that well. At least they had managed to chat about his concerns eventually. 

Actually, Bodhi mused upon further reflection, Wedge wasn't entirely off. Chasing people down wasn't generally Bodhi's game. He flirted, he was obvious, but he wasn't the sort to pursue. Make his interest known, see who wanted take him up on the offer.

Wedge _was_ different. Bodhi wondered what that meant. 

Wedge tilted his head to the side, giving Bodhi a suggestive once-over. "We'll go by your hotel and pick up your things. You're staying with me for the duration." 

Bodhi's train of thought was derailed and he narrowed his eyes in Wedge's direction. "Presumptuous of you." 

After a moment, he realized he had echoed Wedge's earlier line back to him. And sure enough, Wedge could take a cue, he shifted his grip to bring Bodhi's hand to his mouth, kissing the back of Bodhi's knuckles as he said, "Not really. You want to." 

Bodhi found he couldn't argue. After all, Wedge was right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Bodhi learns he can get Wedge to do almost anything, as long a he makes it a Challenge. 
> 
> These two, so sweet, so exhausting :D 
> 
> Thank you all for your ongoing love. I was going through comments the other day and realized that this fic got MULTIPLE people to tell me about their adorable animals. The best sort of fandom interaction. :D It has been a bright spot of my weekends.


	13. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Bodhi talk about secrets. Bodhi and Wedge also talk about secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry about the unanticipated break last week. Long story short, I Last-Minute Hosted Thanksgiving, and the Last-Minute Cleaning that went along with it ate up my chapter editing time. So, better late than never, here it is :)
    
    
      Well, as long as people won't mind that I'm crashing the Pilot Party, I'll be there
    

The baseball game droned in the background as Luke glanced down at the text, smiling at his phone as a small frisson of excitement ran through his chest. 

"That's a face," Bodhi said from his perch on the other end of the couch. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at Luke's phone then back up to Luke. 

Luke licked his lips, and after a brief moment where he considered remaining mysterious and retaining his dignity, asked, "Potentially awkward question, how much do you want to know about my dating life?" 

Bodhi shifted on the couch with undeniable excitement. "Everything. All the things. Tell me all of them." 

"No promises," Luke said with a chuckle, "I reserve my right to privacy. But..." Luke glanced back at his phone, and decided he did, in fact, want to talk this one through. "I invited Ezra to the ski trip. He just let me know he's going." 

"Ooooooh. Ezra, huh?" Bodhi gave a slow nod. "I could see it. He's friendly. Easy to talk to. Cute, too." 

Luke shrugged. "I don't know if it'll..." he trailed off, looking up at Bodhi and shrugging "...I don't know." 

"Don't put pressure on it. If it happens it happens. So, details, darling, is he aware this is possibly more than a friendly trip?" 

"He is." Luke took a deep steadying breath. "He flirted and I...flirted back. We've gone out for drinks a couple times."

Bodhi gave a warm smile. "Well look at you! How are you feeling?" 

"I don't know," Luke said, something lightening in his chest just in admitting it. "I'm still...I feel like I'm rushing things? Dak was gone two years before you and I…" Luke trailed off. He really shouldn't be embarrassed. It had been sex. It had been good. 

"Had a romp?" Bodhi said, his eyes twinkling. 

Luke shook his head. "Had really good sex, semi-regularly. And while we were never going to be forever partners, it's still only been a few months since we stopped." 

Luke wished Bodhi well, but the idea of sleeping with him at the same time that he was sleeping with Wedge was…incestuous-feeling. Better to just avoid the whole thing. 

Things seemed to be going smoothly, as far as Luke knew. Bodhi and Luke were certainly fine, though Luke had never really expected them to not be. He was surprised, how easily he had shifted into and out of the benefits part of his friends-with-benefits relationship with Bodhi. It was more natural than he had expected. 

As for Bodhi and Wedge…well, Luke wasn't even sure if they _were_ sleeping together. As a default, Bodhi didn't kiss and tell, and Wedge was as inscrutable as ever. Luke had been entirely left out of things—exactly where he wanted to be. 

"I don't think you should stress about the timeline, you know?" Bodhi said. "If you're interested, go for it!" 

"I think..." Luke sighed. "We're right in the middle of the anniversary gauntlet. Part of the reason I took an interest was to keep from falling into my own head. But I'm not the best company right now." 

"Yeah. Have you guys talked about...?" Bodhi winced, looking off to the side.

"Fortunately, he was already aware of the baggage when he accepted the drinks invitation." Luke gave what he hoped was a convincing smile, but he figured it came off a bit self-depreciating. "I did give him the heads up that this time of year isn't great for me, without too much detail. But our ski trip is in February, and I think by then...I'm at least willing to consider it. And it sounds like he is too."

"Well," Bodhi said, smiling easily, "I still think it's exciting. I hope it works for you. I guess I should probably wait a bit before breaking out the shovel talk." 

"You're really set on that." Luke gave a lopsided smile in return. 

"Baby, you're important. I have to make sure people understand this. But I'll behave. At least through the ski trip." 

At that point a commotion sounded over the TV, Luke turned his attention back in time to watch an outfielder chase after a ground ball as the second baseman tried to steal third. The baseman got to third just seconds before the ball did, and after some excited shouting from the announcers, everyone settled back down. 

At the inning change, Bodhi said, almost out of nowhere, "Wedge is coming too. I guess you probably already knew that?" 

Luke blinked. "I didn't. He was still a maybe the last time we talked." 

"He figured out his schedule." Bodhi paused, and when Luke glanced over he seemed uncomfortable, mulling over something. "Luke, I hate to mention it but I don't know how much he wants people to know. I was going to let him take the lead on that. So if you don't mind..." 

"Of course, I won't share anything that you guys aren't." Luke answered automatically. 

Internally, he felt an uncomfortable sinking feeling. Wedge's scowl tended to chase away potential romantic partners, but the ones that made it through the bristle had all been serious and monogamous. Bodhi was neither. But that didn't mean that he wasn't amazing, and that didn't mean that he deserved to be someone's dirty secret. 

Bodhi and Wedge had the potential to hurt each other badly, and Luke would never be able to choose sides. 

His dire thought spiral was interrupted when Bodhi reached over and grabbed Luke's hand. "We're okay," Bodhi said, squeezing. "I promise. We're both adults who know how to talk and set expectations and all that. This isn't going to land on you." 

Luke ducked his head. "Am I that obvious?" 

"I know what to look for. But I promise, we are doing good. I only mention it because, well," Bodhi wrinkled his nose, "His privacy is important to me, and I wanted to avoid any awkward situations." 

"You don't generally kiss and tell," Luke said, considering the situation. 

"Yeah, this particular situation is an exception, rather than the rule. It's taking a bit more effort to manage gracefully."

"Does it ever bother you?" Luke asked, as a nagging worry started to form in the back of his mind.

"Bother me?" Bodhi asked, tilting his head to the side. 

"All the secrecy. In general, but right now," Luke swallowed around a lump in his throat, "more specifically the fact that I never really shared that we were together." 

"Oh!" Bodhi said, as understanding dawned. He waved his hands in front of himself. "God, no! I'm well aware of the judgement that comes with the way I live my life. I wouldn't wish that on anyone that isn't trying to make the same statement. Sometimes I even like the secrecy." 

"Fun sneaking around?" Luke asked, wrinkling his nose. He still didn't like that as an explanation. 

"Not exactly. More the trust? I feel like..." Bodhi turned to Luke, laying his hand on Luke's knee. "You and I were able to be together because you trusted me. I feel—this is going to sound self-centered—but I feel like I was able to give you something really special, because you trusted me. Keeping things secret is keeping that trust." 

"You did give me something really special," Luke said, relaxing. "Thank you. By the way. Again." 

"My pleasure." Bodhi winked. "And yours." 

Luke snorted. Their attention turned back to the screen, where a promisingly fast ground ball was scooped up by the shortstop, who whirled it over to first baseman who easily tagged out the runner. 

"Damn," Bodhi muttered, staring at the screen. 

"I'm surprised you're as into this as you are? Have you always liked baseball? Is this something I just didn't know about you?" 

Bodhi shook his head. "No, new thing, I'm getting into it." 

"With the Dodgers?" Luke chuckled as a thought hit him. "Better not mention that to Wedge, he..."

Bodhi was smirking. 

"Bodhi....did you pick up a baseball hobby just to piss Wedge off?" 

"Not _just_ to piss him off. It's slower than my preference, but I do like the strategy. Now, rooting for the Dodgers....yeah, _that's _just to piss him off." 

Luke groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Please don't spend the whole ski trip arguing about sports." 

"Now why would we do that? There's so many varied and interesting things to argue about." 

"You're going to give me grey hairs," Luke said, his voice muffled by his palms. 

"You're blond, it'll take forever for it to show," Bodhi said, and Luke felt something nudging his leg. He looked down to find that Bodhi had sprawled backward, bringing his feet up on the couch and pressing his toes against Luke's thigh. "Don't look so grim. I'm sure we'll declare a Luke Truce again." Bodhi's voice went low and sincere. "We both want you happy." 

Luke dragged his fingers down his face dramatically as he dropped his hands. "I know," Luke allowed, "but have you just considered...not arguing?"

Bodhi laughed. "And take all the fun out of it? Never." 

* * *

Wedge caught the bottle of gatorade that Bodhi threw at him and drained about half of it in one go. It slid down his throat, chilled and _delicious_ in a way that let Wedge know he had let himself get a bit dehydrated. 

Now, what on earth could have caused that? 

He chuckled at his own little sarcastic musing before settling the bottle on the nightstand and flopping back against the bed, tired, a little sore, and utterly satiated. This particular cocktail of sensation—his limbs thick and slow, his body wrung out, his brain alight with hazy pleasure—was becoming almost a regular occurrence. He had only been with Bodhi a few months but he was pretty sure he was getting utterly spoiled by the experience. 

Bodhi gave him an affectionate smile and meandered back over to the bed, sipping at his own bottle. "How you feeling, handsome?" he asked as he crawled back between the sheets. 

Wedge answered with a pleased grunt, rolling over and wrapping himself around Bodhi's legs as Bodhi was still trying to get settled. 

"Octopus!" Bodhi said with cheerful amusement as he determinedly worked his way into a more comfortable cuddle. He wound up sitting up against the headboard, Wedge's arms around his thighs, one hand resting in Wedge's hair. 

"How about you?" Wedge asked, as he nuzzled up against Bodhi's hip. He was vaguely aware he was being ridiculous, but Bodhi seemed to love a bit of tactile comfort as much as Wedge did. 

"Fantastic, as always with you," he said, as his fingers played through Wedge's hair. 

Wedge tried not to show how pleased he was at that. Pressing his forehead slightly more firmly against Bodhi's hip, he asked, "You going to sleep?" 

"Soon. I won't be hurt if you drift off, though. Cross-country flights are always rough." 

"Not that bad." Wedge let go of Bodhi's thighs and rolled onto his back, blinking at the ceiling. "Do you have a guest room I should make my way over to?" 

Wedge hadn't actually been expecting the invitation to stay at Bodhi's the next time he was in New York. From what he'd heard from Luke, Bodhi was protective of his space. Luke had once wryly described Bodhi as an excellent guest but a reluctant host. And yet, Bodhi had offered, and Wedge was here. So, despite the fact that Bodhi had pretty much dragged Wedge over to the bed before swallowing his cock down, Wedge still didn't want to assume he was going to be staying in this particular bed. 

Overall, it was easier than Wedge had expected, not to assume. He had expected some jealousy or hurt feelings, hooking up with someone that didn't offer or expect commitment. But Bodhi had always been clear in his boundaries, and they had always felt fair. There was something freeing in that, Wedge had to admit. 

"Nah, your snoring isn't that bad. You can stay." Bodhi's hand left the top of Wedge's head, and there was a sound of a lid being screwed back on the bottle before Bodhi stretched to set the bottle back down on the nightstand. "Is it going to bother you if I ramble a bit before I sleep? You don't need to answer or anything, but sometimes chat helps me unwind from the day." 

Wedge looked over at Bodhi. "Sure, ramble away."

"Thanks," Bodhi said, and his hand returned to Wedge's hair and kept stroking as he started chatting. 

It was soothing, chatter washing over Wedge along with the touch. That was surprising in and of itself. If someone had described the situation to him as, 'you are in someone's house, sharing a bed with them, you are trying to get to sleep and they won't stop talking,' Wedge would have said that was a literal nightmare. But this, Bodhi just chatting with no obligation to respond, a warm presence that reassured Wedge he wasn't alone, it was really nice. Wedge closed his eyes and let himself drift. 

"I told Luke you were coming to the skiing trip," Bodhi mused. "Hope you weren't trying to keep it secret or anything. Oh! You know who's coming along with him? Ezra, he's a Cabin Manager at Rogue."

"I know Ezra," Wedge replied muzzily. 

"Oh! Good. But you know what this means? This means we're actually going to get to see Luke try to flirt! I can't wait to see what this looks like. Very exciting." 

"Not that exciting." Wedge opened his eyes again and shifted so his cheek was against Bodhi's thigh and he was looking up at Bodhi. "Not the first time he's flirted." 

"Yeah, you were around for him and Dak's early days, weren't you?" Bodhi looked down, fond smile on his face, "By the time I met them, they were well settled." 

Wedge smiled, remembering Luke—much younger—dreamy-eyed and following around the handsome engineer that had caught his eye. Wedge had spent about two seconds trying to decide whether or not he was jealous, before realizing that as good of a boyfriend as Luke had been, their high-school years together were _nothing_ compared to how excited he was about Dak. 

Luke had been happy, and that had made Wedge happy. 

"Yeah," Wedge finally said. "They were cute." 

Wedge heaved a sigh, only slightly surprised to hear it echoed by Bodhi. They both knew what it was that Luke had lost. 

"Sorry, darling, didn't mean to bring the mood down," Bodhi said after a minute, "Regardless, I'm excited to see him with Ezra. I hope it goes well. He deserves some joy." 

"'S Fine." Wedge said, taking the lull to stretch. He tried to cast about for some lighter topic. "A while ago Luke told me he was seeing someone casually. I wonder if that was Ezra?" 

If Wedge hadn't been looking up, he never would have caught the expression that flicked across Bodhi's face. For a second, he looked almost guilty, caught in some furtive action. Wedge pushed his way upright, a cold certainty growing in the pit of his stomach as he caught Bodhi's eyes and said slowly, "You wouldn't know who that was, would you?" 

Bodhi looked away. 

"It was you," Wedge said, a statement, not a question. His heart skipped a beat as a horrible thought occurred to him. "Are you _still_ sleeping with him?" he asked, his heart in his throat. 

"No!" Bodhi said quickly. "I would have...if Luke hadn't broken things off, I would have let you know." 

"Why didn't you let me know anyway?" Wedge said, the cold in his chest crystallizing into anger. He should have known. 

"Because at that point it wasn't any of your business!" Bodhi snapped back. "I don't share things about my partners, unless they specifically say they want me to." Bodhi stopped, something guilty flashing across his face. "I did let him know I was interested in you. I'm sorry. I don't usually share that much." 

"That's not the point," Wedge said. "I was also involved in this decision. I should have had all the information." 

Bodhi folded his arms. "Look, when Luke found out I was interested in you, he decided to stop sleeping with me. His choice, absolutely, I respect it. But by the time Paris happened it was done, and it just would have been gossiping." Bodhi made an unhappy face. "It still feels like gossiping." 

"Gossip—" Wedge couldn't speak for a moment, he was so furious. How could Bodhi miss—? How could he not see the most important thing? "You stopped sleeping with Luke because of me." 

"No, Luke stopped—" 

"Because. Of. Me." Wedge cut him off, not interested in technicalities. "How could you not even..." Wedge swallowed hard, and started getting out of bed. 

"Hey, wait, where are you—?"

"I can't stay here," Wedge said, fighting to keep from shouting. He could be mature about this. He could stay calm and communicate, even if Bodhi couldn't. "You put me in a terrible position." Wedge found his pants and tugged them back on, grabbing for his shirt as he said, "I have never wanted to take something away from Luke. And now I have, because you didn't give me the chance to know." 

"Wedge, I—" 

"Goodnight," Wedge grabbed his bag as he went for the door, absurdly grateful that Bodhi hadn't given him time to get unpacked. Small blessings. 

"Where are you going?" 

Wedge found his shoes and started slipping them onto his bare feet. His socks were somewhere in the room, but he was willing to call them a loss, he just needed to get _out_ before he said something he regretted. 

"I—god fine, if you insist on doing this, at least let me get you a hotel?" Bodhi asked, his voice hurt and tired. 

Wedge shook his head, not trusting his voice, and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (winces) Ooof. Rough place to end a chapter. What monster was responsible for that!?
> 
> ...ah. Oops. 
> 
> Hopefully this angst isn't too agonizing. 
> 
> I'm going to do my best to NOT delay the next chapter. NaNoWriMo is over, so it's looking good. (Did I tell y'all I did NaNo this year? I did. That's another reason the posting schedule got a lil erratic. It's really hard to madly write a fic and edit another at the same time. I won, though! And got a lot of fic written during that time. Coming soon! :D )


	14. Apology Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies are never easy...but some things make them easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yawns) It's later here than I wanted it to be, but I said we'd post the chapter on time, and gosh darn it that's what we're going to do! :D Apologies if there are any dropped words, or anything like that. I didn't review it quite as diligently this week. If you find a wonky sentence, feel free to flag it in the comments.

Luke glared at his door. It was nine-thirty at night. He was cuddled on the couch. He had a book, a blanket draped over his lap, and a very big cat draped over that. And someone was knocking at his door. 

"This had better be a crisis," Luke muttered to Gup, nudging her off of his thighs. "There had better be a powerline down or something." 

Gup gave him an indignant look, followed by a small unhappy murp as Luke stood up. 

"I'm not happy about this either," Luke reassured her. "And rest assured if this is a lost pizza delivery person again I am going to be very vexed on both your behalf and mine."

It wasn't a lost pizza delivery person. 

"Wedge?" Luke asked, blinking at the distraught looking pilot huddled on his front porch. 

Wedge hunched a little further into his coat, wrapping up against the biting wind of early winter. "Hi," he said quietly, his face drawn and pale. 

"Are you okay? I didn't know you were in town! Did a flight divert?" Luke stepped back and gestured Wedge through the front door. 

Wedge shook his head. "No, no, it's...I should have called, I'm sorry, I..." 

"Hey," Luke said soothingly. "Come on, get warm. I'll make you some...hot chocolate or something." 

Wedge followed Luke back into his kitchen, leaning back against the counter while Luke pulled some milk out of the fridge. Luke grabbed a pot, dumped some milk into it, and hesitated, before turning on the burner. He shoved a spoon in Wedge's direction. "It's just stressing me out, having you moping over there. Get over here and stir this, while I grab the chocolate." 

Wedge, looking grateful for something to do, took the spoon from Luke. Luke found some of the good chocolate and started chopping it, turning the bar into thin fine shards.

"Real chocolate?" Wedge asked, arching an eyebrow over at Luke. 

"Yes. I take my hot chocolate seriously. I'm working on a custom blend."

Wedge snorted. "Going to give up the skies in order to become a drinks entrepreneur?" 

Luke smiled, relieved to hear Wedge joking. Sure, Wedge had showed up on his doorstep out of nowhere, but the more he joked the less likely it was to be an actual crisis. 

Luke hoped. 

"So," Luke said as he dumped the chocolate shavings into the milk, "you ready to—yeah, keep stirring—tell me what's going on?" 

As Luke rummaged for some vanilla extract and cinnamon, Wedge stirred. The silence stretched a while longer, and just as Luke was planning his next move in the get-Wedge-to-talk game, Wedge cleared his throat. "I...I was staying with Bodhi. This trip."

"Ah." Luke bit his lip, imagining all the miserable ways this could go. He took a deep breath, composing his face before he turned back to Wedge, spices in hand. "I can't pick sides, Wedge. Please, don't ask me to do that."

Wedge shook his head, staring meditively at the pot as he swirled the spoon in figure-eights. "I'm not. I didn't even know that you knew about us, until tonight." 

Luke wrinkled his nose, thinking through the implications of that. "I…didn't actually know for sure. He's been very respectful of your privacy," Luke said as he measured in the vanilla. 

Wedge gave an angry grunt, and the milk sloshed in the pot as his stirring jerked. "Too respectful." 

Luke gave an exasperated exhale. "What on earth does that mean?" 

Wedge didn't answer, just stirred in jerking little movements, stormclouds on his face. Luke let Wedge sulk as he measured in the cinnamon, hoping Wedge would break the silence again. 

Wedge didn't, and Luke grabbed the spoon out of Wedge's hand and hip-checked Wedge away from the pot before his agitated stirring could sloosh any more milk out of the pot. "Wedge, are you angry at me right now? I honestly can't tell."

"No!" Wedge sounded stricken. "I'm not angry at you, I just..." Wedge ran his fingers through his hair. "I found out that you and Bodhi were a thing."

Luke winced. Great. This was a fun bit of awkwardness to deal with. He moved, actions rote as he stirred a few more times, making sure the chocolate was melted in. He took the pot off the burner and pulled down two mugs. Well, no point in denying it. "Yeah, we were." 

Luke braced for Wedge's anger. He wasn't expecting Wedge to crumple next to him, shoulders going down as he curled in on himself. It was a very un-Antilles sort of move. "I'm so sorry, Luke, I didn't know." 

Luke took in Wedge's slumped form, and shoo his head a little. Wedge always felt things so deeply, and Luke wasn't always sure what the best way to help him process was. Luke turned back to the pot, grabbing a ladle and carefully pouring two full mugs of hot coco. He nudged one against Wedge's folded forearms. "It's fine?"

Wedge stiffened, straightened, and nearly knocked the mug out of Luke's hands. Luke glared at him, and Wedge gave an apologetic head tilt as he more gingerly took the mug. 

"It's not fine," Wedge said seriously, setting the mug down on the counter. "You stopped sleeping with him because of me. I never"—Wedge grabbed Luke's shoulder—"would have asked you to make that choice. I didn't mean to steal anything from you." 

"Oh!" Luke said, light suddenly dawning. Of course. 

Luke set his own mug down, covering Wedge's hand with his own, reaching his other for Wedge's face. He drew his thumb across the apple of Wedge's cheek, a small gesture of soothing he had used since high school. It settled Wedge now as well as it had then, and Luke was grateful for decades of built-up communication. 

"Really," Luke said, as sincerely as he could manage. "I promise, no broken heart here. Bodhi and I were always going to be temporary. If anything, I'm grateful for the clear end point." 

"I..." Wedge started, and Luke watched as the despair drained out of him, leaving a befuddled sort of confusion. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

Luke shrugged, picking up his own mug, gesturing firmly at Wedge's and walked over to the kitchen table. "I was embarrassed?" Luke sat down, and waited for Wedge to join him before he continued, "It was hard enough just...getting back out there. I really didn't want to deal with judgement or—no, stop making that face, you would have judged a little and you know it." 

"I wouldn't," Wedge protested. "I just want you happy. Whatever that looks like." 

Luke smiled. "I'm lucky to have you as a friend. So, fine, in deference to your excellent character," Luke lifted his mug in a small salute, "not judgement. Teasing. I was barely ready to connect with someone again. I couldn't stand needing to explain it."

Wedge hunched over his hot chocolate, finally responding, "It blindsided me. You know I hate surprises. This was a bad one." 

Luke cleared his throat. "In my defense, you didn't tell me you were sleeping with him either." 

"But he told you! He should have...I should have known." Wedge looked away, bristling and defensive like he always was when he was hurting.

Luke reached forward, laying a hand on Wedge's wrist. "I'm sorry." 

Wedge shifted, before twisting his hand so he was holding Luke's. "I know it's not your fault. But you're my best friend. The thought that I had managed to hurt you while...chasing my dick just made everything freeze."

Luke snorted. "There's a mental image."

"You know what I mean." Wedge said, his tone lighter, but his grip on Luke's hand still overly-tight. 

"I promise, we're fine. And if I had been really miserable about the idea of moving on, well, then the three of us would have talked." Luke paused. "It occurs to me that Bodhi should have already told you the same." 

Wedge stiffened, and slowly withdrew his hand, taking another drink of hot chocolate. "I...may not have given him the chance." 

Luke stood up, holding a finger in the air as he walked over to his phone. Sure enough, there was a message light flashing. Luke sighed and flicked it open, pulling up his texts. 
    
    
    Is Wedge over there?
    
    
    
    I think I fucked up

Luke glanced up from his phone, over at Wedge. "You didn't even tell him where you were going?" 

Wedge had the decency to look sheepish. "I was very focused on getting over here to apologize." 

"So that's a no." Luke sighed. "I can't be between the two of you." 

"No, you shouldn't," Wedge pulled out his phone, waving it at Luke reassuringly, "and you don't need to be." 

As Luke watched, Wedge started dialing, holding his phone to his ear. "Hey, yeah, I'm at Luke's. I think, just a second"—Wedge covered the base of the phone with his hand—"is it okay of Bodhi comes over?"

Luke gave Wedge a long look. "If you can behave?" 

Wedge gave Luke a wry smile, and nodded. "Alright, yeah, Luke says it's fine as long as we play nice." Wedge winced at whatever the response was, then set his phone down. He glanced up at Luke. "I may have deserved that." 

Luke rolled his eyes. "You think?" 

"Yeah, well, I suck at relationships. What else is new?" 

"Don't sabotage yourself," Luke chided. 

Wedge gave a faint smile and took another sip of his hot chocolate. "This is really good. I think you've ruined me for the normal stuff." 

"Wedge..." 

"The cinnamon is a nice kick." 

Luke refused to be diverted. "Bodhi's not like The Bastard. You can actually talk to him." 

Wedge set down the cup abruptly. "Have you told him about—?" 

"No!" Luke said quickly. "I suppose I can't really fault the question, all things considered. But no. I haven't and I won't. Those stories are yours." 

"Thanks." Wedge played with the handle. "And thanks for putting up with me." 

Luke lapsed into a smile as he regarded Wedge. "Don't worry. You're nowhere near out of chances to fuck up yet." 

Wedge lifted his mug. "What a relief." 

Bodhi showed up half an hour later, laden with a large white box, splashed with a stylised brown and black outline of a doughnut. "I bring apology treats." 

"You want me to give you guys some space?" Luke said, his eyes flicking from Bodhi's studiedly casual cheer to Wedge's tension. 

"I'd rather you didn't, darling. I know I promised you wouldn't end up between us, but it occurs to me things are going to go better if we're all working off the same rulebook." Bodhi looked over at Wedge, and Luke could see the tension in the way Bodhi's throat tightened, in the tapping of his index finger against the box. "If you don't mind, of course." 

Wedge shook his head. "No, probably a good idea." 

Bodhi's index finger stilled. "Excellent. Let's all get some sugary carbohydrates in our bodies and then we can talk." 

It was interesting, watching Wedge and Bodhi together. Bodhi cracked a joke while slicing a doughnut in half, and Wedge was ready with a laugh and retort before both of them remembered they were technically mid-fight and everything went awkward again. Still, neither of them were being sharp or hurtful, and that was a relief to see. 

"Right, well," Bodhi said, as he settled in with a quarter of a hibiscus doughnut and half of a salted chocolate caramel doughnut. "Luke, it's your house, any comments before we get started?" 

Luke stared down at the other half of the salted chocolate caramel ring on his plate. "Please, be good to each other." 

Bodhi toasted him with the lurid pink hibiscus doughnut. "Reasonable terms." 

Wedge, more plainly, just said, "We will." 

"Okay," Bodhi breathed a sigh, folded his hands, and looked over at Wedge. "After taking a minute to think about it, I can see how I didn't give you enough information to make an informed decision. I'm sorry about that. I should have asked Luke, when I told him I was interested in you, if it was okay to share the basics. In the future, while still prioritizing privacy, which is important to me, I'll try to think through potential complications." 

Wedge looked a little stunned at the comprehensiveness of the apology. "Uh, thank you? I'm sorry too. I know I was…" Wedge trailed off, turning his palm up in a little helpless gesture. "Sorry."

Bodhi nodded, and took a deep slow breath. "I don't know if you want to continue..." he gestured between himself and Wedge. "And I don't need an answer now. But I need to tell you..." Bodhi's throat tightened as the words caught, and he looked away. "I have anxiety. I've had it for years, I've worked with a therapist, and overall I'm pretty good at keeping my thoughts from running away with me. But certain things I'm sensitive to, and people cutting off communication is one of them." 

"Ah," Wedge said, ever eloquent. "Fuck. Sorry."

Bodhi gave a short laugh. "Exactly. Look, baby, god knows I have my problems, and I'm going to step on your toes again. Thing is, this won't work if I think that every time I do that you're going to go storming off. I'd get all flinchy and defensive and frankly that's not good for either of us."

"No." Wedge licked his lips, giving Luke a guilty glance before focusing back on Bodhi. "I have a temper. I try to control it but sometimes....it's not an excuse. But things go better when I have time to cool down." 

"Fair enough. But do you think you can do more of a, 'Talk later' than an, 'I can't stay here' with no further explanation?" Bodhi asked, folding his arms.

Luke ducked his head, taking a bite of his doughnut to hide his dismay. He could have told Wedge that was exactly the wrong call. Of course, he could have also told Bodhi that Wedge was good at circling back around to things once he had some time to think. But he was staying out of this. That was the plan. 

"Sorry," Wedge said. "I didn't know." 

"That's why I'm telling you. Communication. It's a wonderful thing. But that doesn't change the fact that I need you to not do this again." 

Wedge paused before he spoke, eyes focused on the edge of his own small plate as he said, "I'm not always ready to talk. But if you can respect it when I say, 'Not now,' then I can keep communication lines open."

Bodhi smiled. "Perfect, that's all I'm asking." 

Luke couldn't quite help the sigh of relief that escaped him. Bodhi and Wedge both turned to him, Bodhi obviously fighting a smile, Wedge with the tiny curve at the corner of his mouth that was as good as a grin. 

"See, I told you, we're perfectly capable of communicating like reasonable adults. Eventually." Bodhi winked. 

Luke shook his head. "Grey hairs," he said, unable to keep the affection out of his voice. 

"It's about time you picked some up," Wedge said, running his fingers through his own richly dark brown hair, which had started going grey at the temples at least five years back.

"Almost done. Just need to establish a couple other things, so this doesn't come back to bite us again. Luke, doll, what can I tell Wedge about our time together?" 

Luke ducked his head, feeling heat race across his cheeks, down his throat. 

"Um," Wedge said quickly. Luke glanced up and was gratified to find Wedge looking a bit pink himself. "I really don't need those details." 

Luke seriously considered sinking under the table. "Look, just, I really don't want…" Luke made a face. 

"You're both terrible at talking about this. I want you to know." Bodhi pointed an accusing finger at first Luke, then Wedge. "You both need to do some serious self work. But fine. I will do all the heavy lifting in this conversation. That it happened is out of the bag. I'm guessing no sex details." 

Bodhi looked at him expectantly, and Luke gave a jerking nod. He spared a moment in his intense embarrassment to wonder exactly how Bodhi and Wedge's fight had become Interrogate Luke Time. 

"Very good. Now, trickier stuff, timeframe, non-sexual things we did together, what about that stuff?" 

"That's….fine? I think?" Luke slumped, putting his face in his hands. "Look, you know me. You know what's going to make me twitch. Just don't share that stuff, okay?" 

"Vague," Bodhi said, wrinkling his nose. "But I suppose it's good enough for now. We can always refine if needed." 

Luke groaned and slumped down even further. Wedge, the jerk, laughed at him. 

"Oh no, baby, you're next," Bodhi said, turning to Wedge, his tone dancing. "What can I tell Luke about you?" 

"Whatever you want," Wedge said smoothly. Luke emerged from his slump to find Wedge looking irritatingly smug.

"Oh really," Bodhi said, his tone unimpressed. "So if I told Luke that your cock is—" 

_"I don't want to hear this,"_ Luke hissed, physically recoiling. 

Wedge nodded. "Yeah. I think I'm safe." 

"Jerk." Luke glared at him. 

Wedge, with all the maturity due his years, stuck his tongue out at Luke in return. 

"And you?" Luke turned to Bodhi, hoping that he'd at least share in some of the discomfort. 

Bodhi waved his hands. "You both gossip all you want about me. You can't imagine I have any shame at this point." 

Luke glanced over at Wedge, who shrugged. True enough. 

Bodhi reached over, patting Luke's hand. "Thanks for enduring, I think the worst is over now." 

Luke gave a tight smile.

"You did great," Bodhi reassured him, irritatingly sincere. 

"You guys going now?" Luke asked, changing the topic. He fought down a tiny pang of not-quite-jealousy, a grade-school instinct to protest that his two friends were hanging out without him. 

Wedge and Bodhi shared a look. Luke was surprised when Wedge was the one that turned to Luke and said, "No. Unless you want us out of your hair. But we're here. Might as well hang for a bit." 

"Yeah!" Bodhi cheerfully agreed. "I mean we already had _really fantastic_ sex earlier, so I'm good for a bit." 

Wedge flattened his lips and glared at Bodhi. 

"You said anything, hon." Bodhi folded his arms. "Rethinking that?" 

"New rule!" Luke said, quickly standing up from the table. "Bodhi, do not tell me things about your sex life just to piss Wedge off." 

Bodhi gave an elaborate sigh. "But you both turn so adorably pink at the same time!" 

Luke glared some more. 

"Fine," Bodhi said with a chuckle. "Did you watch the wildlife documentary I told you about? The one we talked about last week?" 

Luke shook his head. "Hadn't gotten there yet."

"I vote we put that on. You and I can make animal commentary, and Wedge can fall asleep because he is coming up on fifty-five duty hours this week, because he's a workaholic." 

"Wedge," Luke chided. "Aren't you the boss now? Don't you finally control your schedule?"

Wedge glared at Bodhi. "New rule, no ratting my work schedule out to Luke." 

"Denied," Bodhi said, holding out his hand to help Wedge up. "We're your friends and we care, and it's about time Luke had some back-up in actually trying to keep you healthy." 

Luke cleared off the plates and mugs as Bodhi shepherded Wedge over to the couches. Luke rinsed the mugs off, and as he turned off the water he heard, faintly, from the living room, "Hey you." 

"Hey. I—really, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have walked out." 

"Forgiven," Bodhi said. 

There was a soft noise of bodies coming together, and neither of them said anything, after that. 

Gup twined around his feet and made a questioning chirp. Luke smiled at her as he dried his hands. He crouched down, and Gup happily leaped up into his arms, settling herself with half her massive body draped over his shoulder, purring immediately. 

"Watch out, Gup, I think they may be working things out," he murmured into her fur, quietly enough that the other room wouldn't hear him. "Maybe this whole thing won't crash and burn, after all." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! The doughnuts are inspired by a real New York doughnut eatery, [Dough Dougnuts](https://www.doughdoughnuts.com/menu/). The hibiscus is a real flavor, and it is, really, very pink! 
> 
> As ever, as always, thank you for reading :D


	15. Very Powerful Dragon Roar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had almost been a quiet ski trip...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops, lil late. :D I got a cold this week, I'm blaming that. It's been a very exhausting week. Hope the rest of you are making it through this winter season alright!

"Wedge crashed," Hobbie called as he dramatically swung the front door open. Luke stopped with his hand halfway into the fridge and gave up on getting a drink, turning instead to look at the scene unfolding in the front door of their cabin. Hobbie was stumbling in carrying his gear and somebody else's, snow-covered ground stretching out behind him. Wedge followed him in, carrying no gear at all. Wedge didn't look good—upright, but clearly favoring his right arm. 

Luke sighed. Second to the last day, too. He had nearly been convinced they would have a quiet trip. Or as close to quiet as a group of pilots got. But still, they had been doing this trip yearly since Wedge and Wes had abandoned Rogue for Wraith, and Luke had almost held onto hope that age had mellowed them somewhat. 

Up until now, the biggest drama in the ski trip had been Wes announcing to the room that, since he had the room next to Bodhi's, he could definitely say that Bodhi had managed to get someone into his room, the _sneaky dog_. Wes had been midway through spinning out some raunchy hypothetical seduction of ski resort employees, when Wedge had walked into the room, grabbed a mug of coffee, and said flatly, "That was me." 

In the stunned silence that followed that announcement, he set down his coffee mug, backed Bodhi up against the counter, and started kissing him. Midway through the kiss, everyone had caught on that _yes, this was really happening_, and whoops and jeers exploded around the room. 

Luke half-wondered if Wedge had done it to take the pressure off of him and Ezra. Ezra had been welcomed, and was cheerful enough that he fit in easily with the pilots, but Luke knew that the fact that he had _brought someone along_ was a hot topic of discussion. These were good friends, and Luke knew that they wanted him happy, but their support could be a bit...overwhelming. 

If anyone would understand that, it would be Wedge. And with him and Bodhi drawing most of the attention and teasing, Luke had found time to enjoy a very tentative romance. 

Ezra knew it was hard, had been supportive of Luke setting whatever boundaries he felt comfortable with. He had even offered to sleep on the floor. Luke had laughed and pushed him down onto the bed, crawling on top of him for a lazy makeout session. They hadn't gotten much further than that, physically, but had spent time eating together, laughing, and cuddling up at night. They had even snuck off the slopes early tonight, planning on a romantic evening tucked in bed and watching a movie. 

So much for that. 

Wedge shook off Hobbie's arm around his waist. "I didn't crash. I was skied into."

"You were skied into, and then you tumbled down about half the mountain. And then! You got up and skied some more. So," Hobbie turned to the room at large, "we all thought he was fine." 

"Oh no," Luke said, rubbing his temples. 

"Oh yes," said Wes, from where he had entered behind Wedge and Hobbie. "We finally figured out something was wrong when Wedge tried to grab the ski lift with his left hand and nearly passed out." 

"I did not." Wedge glared: at Wes, at Hobbie, at the room, it was a general-purpose glare. 

"You yelped." Hobbie gave a meaningful nod with his eyebrows raised. 

"Come on, Hobbs, it was a very powerful dragon roar," Wes said with a grin. 

"I hate both of you." 

"Did you go the first aid station?" Luke asked, and received a glare for his trouble. "Come on, let's get you out of your ski gear and we'll go." 

"It can wait until tom—"

Luke cut that nonsense off. "Come on. You're too smart to risk this turning into something serious."

Wedge flattened his lips together into a thin, unhappy line. But he did turn off to his room with no further resistance. Luke followed him. 

He realized exactly how dire the situation was when Wedge didn't even protest Luke's entry. He just turned around, glumly using his right hand to cradle his left. Luke reached for him. "Let's go with pants first." 

Wedge sighed and nodded his acquiescence. 

They managed to get Wedge stripped out of his heavy ski pants and down to his boxers when the door opened again. Luke glanced up from considering the best approach for removing the jacket to find Bodhi slipping into the room. 

Bodhi walked over to Wedge and whistled. "That is not the color your palm is supposed to be. Dislocated shoulder for sure. Getting you out of the jacket is going to be a bitch." 

Luke gave a dubious glance toward Wedge. Wedge had always hated vulnerability, and that had only gotten worse as...certain things had happened. But Wedge didn't seem to mind Bodhi's approach, if anything relaxing further at his casual irreverence. 

"I figure if you can get the jacket open, I can get my good arm out..." Wedge looked down. 

"Or you leave it on and we let the medic deal with it," Bodhi suggested. 

Wedge shook his head. "Rather take my time here, than being rushed in the medic's office." 

"Fair enough." Bodhi turned to Luke. "Alright, shove off, I've got this." 

Luke arched his eyebrows over at Wedge. Wedge nodded slightly. 

"There, see, he's fine. You're not. You're still in pajamas." Bodhi shooed him toward the door. "Go get dressed, I'll get Wedge sorted for the stroll down to the medic." 

Luke looked from one, to the other, and decided he could see the sense in that, heading toward his and Ezra's room. He was surprised at how comfortable Wedge was around Bodhi. He felt another uncomfortable twinge of worry. 

Shortly after the dramatic reveal of Wedge and Bodhi's fling, Wes had managed to corner Luke alone. 

"So, Wedge and Bodhi. Didn't see that coming. Didn't even realize they knew each other, considering how they've never managed to come to the same ski trip before." 

"They didn't. I introduced them. Fairly recently." 

"Huh." Wes had fidgeted, looking uncomfortable, before blurting out, "Look, I like Bodhi, but Wedge doesn't usually..." 

"I know," was all Luke had said in reply. 

"Don't you think we should...." Wes said, gesturing vaguely.

"They're both adults, Wes," Luke said, firmly. "You really want to get in the middle of it?" 

"No!" Wes protested. "I just...don't want Wedge getting hurt." 

Luke gave a helpless shrug. 

"Or Bodhi," Wes amended, almost as an afterthought. "But...you know. Wedge seems...happy?" Wes said slowly. "And part of me is worried that makes it worse."

Luke, wondering when, exactly, this had become his problem, clapped Wes on the shoulders. "Wedge gets to make his own choices, and if it all goes terribly, we'll drag him out to his garden and ply him with whiskey and ice cream." 

Wes gave a resigned nod. "Suppose that's the best plan." 

"And in the meantime, I'm going to stay very firmly out of it, and I suggest you do the same." 

Wes gave a rough laugh. "Fair enough. Wedge responds _so well_ to being told what to do."

That seemed to be the end of it. Neither Hobbie nor Tycho had tried to bridge the topic with him, and if Ezra had any thoughts on the matter, he didn't share them. 

Luke shook his head. He had more important things to worry about at the moment. He pushed open the door to the room. Ezra lay down on the bed, reading, decked out in a tank top and pajama pants. 

He looked up as Luke entered. "There you are! I was worried the fridge had eaten you. Oooh, that's a face," Ezra said, taking in Luke's expression as he walked through the door. 

"Wedge managed to get himself injured. I'm going to take him down to the medic. I don't trust him to actually go on his own." 

"You're a good friend." Ezra pushed himself up on his elbows and glanced down at himself, decked out from head to toe in pajamas. "Did...you want me to go with you?" 

Luke laughed. "No. Stay here, please, get some rest." 

Ezra flopped backward with a relieved sigh. "I would go with you, you know," he said, while obviously burrowing into bed. 

"Very believable," Luke said, before bending down to brush a kiss against Ezra's forehead. "Rest well." 

Ezra made a soft noise of protest when Luke went to pull away again, pulling Luke down into a proper kiss. Luke pulled back, flushing and smiling, holding his hands up. "Raincheck on that?" 

Ezra gave an elaborate sigh. "Fine. Go be a good friend." 

Luke ran his palm along Ezra's thigh, loving the feeling of the buttery-smooth cotton against his hand, the warm bulk of Ezra underneath it. "Believe me, staying here with you is a much more compelling offer. 

Ezra smiled, ducking his head and blushing a little. "Get dressed and get out of here before I decide to keep you." 

Luke tossed him a lazy salute and went to go find his real pants. 

Luke emerged from their room to find Wedge stripped of his ski gear and waiting by the door. Bodhi stood next to him, hands gesturing as he talked. Wedge, wonder of wonders, was actually smiling, caught up in whatever story was being spun. 

"I'm coming with," Bodhi announced as Luke got close.

"I don't need an escort." 

"Yeah, babe, that'd be more believable if you hadn't just done three runs with a dislocated shoulder." Bodhi shook his head sadly. "You can't be trusted." 

"I can be trusted, you—"

"Dislocated. Shoulder."

"We don't know for sure," Wedge said, pointedly turning toward the door with his left arm cradled carefully in his right. 

Bodhi turned to Luke, eyes flicking from the arm to back at Luke. "Completely fucked," he mouthed. 

Luke gave an exasperated nod, and followed Wedge out the door. 

* * *

"Alright, pharmacy is up the street, you wait here, I'll get your prescriptions," Luke said to Wedge, leaving him sitting on a chair in the medic's small waiting room before he turned and disappeared out the door. 

Bodhi stood next to the chair and watched Luke go. "That's a good person to have on your side if you need to deal with the medical system."

"There's a reason he's my emergency contact," Wedge said, sounding tired. With his good hand he fingered the complicated sling immobilising his left arm, dislocated shoulder freshly reset. "I need your help with something."

Bodhi arched an eyebrow down at Wedge.

"Luke worries."

Bodhi nodded. "It's sort of the default Luke state."

"I've already ruined his night tonight, and he's going to insist on staying in with me tomorrow, too."

Bodhi tilted his head, thinking. "Yeah, can't really see Luke leaving you alone."

"Exactly. Unless someone else was staying with me." Wedge looked down, his mouth twisting unhappily. "Look, I don't want you to stay, I just need you to hang out at the lodge until Luke and Ezra are gone."

"Sneaky," Bodhi said, approvingly.

"I wouldn't ask, but I know you and I agree that Luke should have a good time."

Bodhi nodded. "Yeah, the man deserves some fun. I'll be your accomplice, no worries. Maybe even throw in a _suggestive comment_ or two." He glanced down, wondering how Wedge would respond.

Wedge rolled his eyes. "I'm either going to be in pain or fucked on painkillers, I'm not going to want to do much of anything aside from laying down on the couch and watching the room spin."

"Well, of course, but you that sort of talk is going to make Luke really uncomfortable, and because of that he'll be extra inclined to leave."

Wedge gave a slow nod. "A devious mind."

Bodhi reached over and ruffled his hair. "You know it."

Wedge glared, but he didn't pull his head away. Bodhi was secretly delighted by how tactile Wedge had turned out to be. So long as he never actually mentioned his delight out loud, he could get away with all sorts of petting and cuddling. Bodhi ran his fingers through Wedge's hair, and Wedge's eyes slid half-shut.

"So," Wedge said, as if nothing particularly interesting was going on, "you'll wait to leave until after Luke and Ezra have headed out in the morning."

"I will get Luke safely off on his romantic rendezvous, and keep him from hanging about fretting about your self-mangling."

"I was skied into," Wedge grumbled again, leaning over to rest his temple against Bodhi's hip.

Bodhi bit his lip and smiled down at the top of Wedge's head, continuing to comb his fingers through Wedge's hair. Those painkillers the doctor had shot him up with must be fast-acting.

After a little while, the medic's office door jingled, and Luke reappeared. He looked momentarily befuddled by Wedge's sitting cuddle, but he shook his head and walked over to them. "Right," he announced, and Wedge stiffened up after a slow second, moving away from Bodhi. Bodhi let his hand drop back to his side. Luke smiled, before continuing. "I've got the prescription for the next couple days, and refills have been sent on to your local pharmacy."

Wedge nodded slowly. "My physician—"

"Will be faxed a copy of your medical documents, everything's on course to re-certify you asap. I'll call your primary and set up an appointment tonight—he'll sort out whether or not he's going to refer you to a local specialist."

"I can do that," Wedge protested, bracing his hand like he was going to try to stand up.

Luke was over with a hand on Wedge's elbow in a flash. "I know," he said gently as he helped Wedge stand, "but let me do this for you? You know I'll fret, otherwise."

Wedge teetered a bit, but remained mostly upright. Bodhi watched as Luke slipped closer, steadying Wedge without even thinking about it. He could see why Wedge would want Luke out of the way. Luke could mother-hen Wedge until the both of them were miserable, and neither of them would be able to stop. Luke because he knew Wedge wouldn't care for himself properly otherwise, and Wedge…

Well, Wedge knew as well as Bodhi did that Luke had some very understandable hang-ups about loved ones suddenly needing medical care. He wouldn't stop Luke from doing what was needed to reassure himself.

So, it was a good thing Bodhi was there, he decided. He could fill that space between them with something a little bit easier for both of them to bear.

Besides, he mused as he stepped into pace besides Wedge and Luke, it wasn't like it was a particularly onerous task. He liked Wedge, grump and bluster and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, heads up, I'm probably going to take the next couple of weeks off from posting - I'll be traveling for the holiday, and I don't think I want to add more stress. For those that celebrate at this time of year - may your days be full of joy! 
> 
> For those of you that find this time of year grimmer - hang in there. My thoughts go with you, and this time will pass. (hugs) 
> 
> If you're so inclined, I'd love to hear about a holiday/winter tradition in the comments. I love hearing how people celebrate. I'll go first - we do celebrate a Christmas dinner with aunts/uncles/cousins, and every year we have the poppers that you pull apart and have little toys inside. Even though we're all fully-grown now, we still take this tradition VERY seriously, and all wear the cheap little tissue paper crowns kept inside the poppers. Small tribes form based on your color. You do not trade. You must be loyal. Also there are terrible jokes inside that we read aloud, as dramatically as possible. :D


	16. Lazy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last day of the ski trip is a lazy one for Wedge and Bodhi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Additional warnings for this chapter: Mentions of past experiences with homophobia and emotionally distant parenting_.

"You were supposed to leave," Wedge grumped, as Bodhi set the pancakes down in front of him.

"Darling, Luke made me _promise_ to look after you. I couldn't break a promise to Luke! What kind of a monster do you think I am?"

"I wasn't trying to ruin your day in place of Luke's," Wedge muttered.

"Nothing close to ruined," Bodhi said, settling in with his own plate and grabbing for the syrup. "Frankly, I'm utterly shagged. I'm not like you all, hearty and hale..." Bodhi gave Wedge's arm an obvious glance, "Well, usually."

"Fuck off."

"Babe, my legs ache and if I strapped skis on today I'd just be miserable. I probably would have taken today off anyway. And besides, I did promise Luke. He wouldn't have left otherwise. So you're stuck with me."

Wedge sighed.

"Keep that grump up and I'm going to be terribly offended," Bodhi said cheerfully. "So, anything you're wanting to do today?"

Wedge gave a loud, exasperated exhale, and then seemed to give up on being angry at Bodhi for staying, and got on with using his good hand to start eating. "I don't think I'm going to be up for much. Was just planning on having a television day."

"Sounds perfect."

And it was pretty perfect; Wedge tipped over so his head was in Bodhi's lap, bad shoulder carefully positioned around a pillow so it wouldn't get jostled. Bodhi commandeered the remote and started flipping through channels, settling on a documentary about salt. Wedge was too out of it to protest aside from a short disbelieving sound.

"Shush. This stuff is fascinating."

Wedge wound up napping, dozing on Bodhi's lap as the history of salt as a trade good and economic tour de force was revealed to Bodhi. When the credits rolled, Bodhi realized he needed a stretch break, and did his best to wiggle his way out from under Wedge's head without waking him. 

Bodhi did not succeed. Wedge blinked, and pushed himself upright on his good arm with a bleary look on his face. Bodhi kissed his forehead and retreated to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water. Wedge looked mollified as he took his glass, blinking sleepily as he hydrated.

"I get the remote now," Wedge said, once he finished his water, grabbing for it with his good hand. 

"You're mostly sleeping, what do you care?" Bodhi put up a token protest as he handed the remote over. 

"I was asleep because salt is boring." 

"Salt was boring because you were asleep," Bodhi said as he settled back against the couch. He patted his lap twice, looking at Wedge expectantly. 

Wedge looked at Bodhi sideways, but lowered himself back into Bodhi's lap regardless. 

Wedge wound up selecting the news, of all the tedious things. Bodhi did his best to tune out dire reports of catastrophizing announcers desperate for a story (it probably wasn't as bad as all that, but he had learned a while ago that the televised media cycle was terrible for his anxiety). Instead, he focused on the fall of Wedge's hair through his fingers. Silky, almost-black, the silver at his temples starting to colonize the rest of his hair. Perfect to play with. 

Wedge's eyes blinked, slowly, then slipped shut again. Bodhi smiled down at the sleeping man, horribly fond of him. Wedge was so much fun, and part of that was precisely because he believed he was no fun at all. Bodhi carefully reached forward and grabbed the remote out of Wedge's slack hand, catching it neatly before it dropped to the ground. 

Wedge stirred, and Bodhi kept petting his hair while holding very still. Once Wedge was safely settled, Bodhi switched the channel to a monotone gentleman explaining how televisions were made. Perfect. Acceptable to anxiety, should let Wedge sleep deep and hard. And Bodhi would learn how televisions were made, which could, in some circumstances, reasonably considered useful. 

Bodhi learned how to make a television, a kitchen knife, and a playground jungle gym before Wedge yawned and stirred, waking up properly during a segment on paper shredders. 

"Seriously?" Wedge said, pushing himself upright again. 

"It's fascinating stuff," Bodhi said reproachfully, stifling a grin at the clear line of his pants seam against Wedge's cheek. 

Wedge gave a sleepy blink. "Easy enough to sleep through." He stretched one arm, wincing a little as he pulled at his shoulder. "I feel like I've slept for days." 

"Couple hours at most.” At Wedge’s darkening expression, he added, “You're healing." 

"I'm a lump." Wedge's mood seemed to sour; he glanced around the cabin reproachfully, glaring at the door, the windows, anything. 

"How're the pain levels?" Bodhi asked, wondering if that was the source of the black mood, or if it was simply be the usual post-nap grump.

"Fine," Wedge said shortly. 

"Very convincing." Bodhi nodded, widening his eyes and blinking naively. "I completely believe that." 

Wedge used his good hand to flip Bodhi off. "It might be time for a new pill." 

It was, in fact, past time for a new pill. Bodhi supervised him taking it, and Wedge obnoxiously lifted his tongue and swept it left and right, showing that he had actually swallowed. Wedge stayed at the table for about ten more minutes, grumpily making his way through a yogurt, saying his stomach would turn if he took pain medicine on an empty stomach. But as Bodhi watched his eyes brightened, he started moving around more, and by the time his spoon scraped the bottom of the little plastic cup, he was positively antsy. 

"Let's get out of here," Wedge said. "I'm going to go crazy if I stay inside all day." 

"We're not going skiing," Bodhi said. It was important to set good boundaries. 

Wedge huffed. "Let's just go down to the village. Walk around a bit."

As Bodhi wound through the touristy little cobblestones that made up the streets, he couldn't help but laugh internally at how utterly kitschy the whole thing was. Very American, this little constructed town. Bodhi may love his adopted city, but there was a part of him that was still a scrappy East London immigrant kid at heart. 

Wedge asked Bodhi something, and Bodhi only realized it by the expectant look Wedge was giving him. 

Bodhi shook his head. "Hm? Sorry, lost in thought." 

"I noticed. That's what I was asking about." 

Bodhi gave Wedge a considering look. He generally didn't get into his pre-Rogue past all that much. There was too much pain there. That sort of seriousness clashed with the way Bodhi usually wanted to move through life—easily and full of pleasure. But Wedge seemed like the sort that could handle a serious conversation or two, and Bodhi found himself inclined to share. 

"You know I'm a Londoner, yeah?" 

"Never would have guessed." Wedge deadpanned. 

"Yeah, yeah." Bodhi waved his hands. "Coming up on a decade and a half over here, still haven't kicked the accent. But, anyway, right continent to see these little villages for real—you know, the proper resorts that actually found a village and settled in next to it. They didn't find a mountain and build some shining replica." 

Wedge grunted. "It's a little less convenient to meet up in Switzerland." 

"Yeah, well, never actually saw one when I was growing up anyway. My dad was not the sort to indulge his kid, even if we could have afforded it. But I...if my younger self were scooped out of London and dropped here, staring at me in this fake little village..." Bodhi shrugged. "This isn't even close to the sort of future I could have imagined for myself. I wonder what I'd think of me, you know?" 

"You ever wish you were back there?" 

Bodhi snorted. "God, no. It was..." Bodhi nearly launched into the whole sob story, but decided that was a bit too much, sharing hour or no sharing hour. He went with the abbreviated version. "Family life growing up wasn't…fantastic. Mum's American, never really knew her, she buggered off when I was too young to remember. Dad kept me fed and housed, but not a lot of warm touchy-feelies. When I was eighteen, I left for school in the morning, came back to find my stuff out on the porch, and my dad informing me that I was grown, and it was time to find my own way." 

"Shit. That's...terrible." 

"It was," Bodhi said simply. "But my dad's sister thought he was being an ass and let me stay with her until I finished high school. But…well lets just say that the queer thing would have gotten me kicked out again if I had been stupid enough to show it. I've gotten to the point where I know my dad did the best with the tools he had, I'm grateful for my aunt for picking up the slack even if the care was conditional, and I've got a few cousins I actually like. But really, all the people that honestly love me are here in New York. Wouldn't leave it for the world." 

"Except for the part where you leave it for the world all the time. Pilot." Wedge smiled softly. 

Bodhi gave a little hand wave. "Eh. That's the beauty of it. I leave, sure. But I have a place to come home to. How about you? Your family's in New York, yeah? Ever miss it?" 

"Sure," Wedge said easily, his ambling coming to a halt as he stared into a leather goods store. "I like my family, I miss them. Also left a lot of good friends. But I can visit easily enough. But I wanted a…fresh start, I guess. Get away from the dumb mistakes of my early twenties." 

"I can understand that," Bodhi chuckled. "So we both ran west." 

Wedge blinked. "I guess so. Never really thought of it as running. It was good for my career. I wasn't going to get that fast track for command staying with Rogue's New York base. Wraith had openings, and was courting me for them. I think I made the right call. Winters are nicer," he added, almost as an afterthought. 

"Closer to London winters than New York, if I'm remembering right." 

"Nicer than both." 

Bodhi tucked his hands in his pockets. "Chief pilot. You like it?" 

"It's satisfying. I've been aiming for it since I jumped to Wraith. You ever considered it?" 

"Honestly? No. Too much fuss, too much politics. I'm not willing to give up the scandal and become a proper peon." Bodhi paused, before saying, "I've always figured it's lonely."

"It is, a bit," Wedge said, more honest than Bodhi had expected. "I didn't think it would bother me. It doesn't, most days. But...Wes isn't my peer anymore. That is a little awkward. I'm grateful for Luke, for having the Rogue friend group. I don't feel so isolated." 

"Don't forget about your scandalous Rogue lover, darling," Bodhi couldn't help but purr. It was an easy joke, but still—the lazily amused line to Wedge’s mouth was worth it. "I'll make sure you never get too lonely." 

"I'm not likely to forget. Want to get lunch?" Wedge jerked his good thumb toward an upscale burger joint called 'Peak Burger'. 

Bodhi, still half-seeing this world through the eyes of his younger self, smiled. Seventeen bucks for a fucking burger? Well, he could afford it now, and the beer to go with it. "You're speaking my language. Let's go." 

He lingered a moment on the sidewalk, looking at Wedge. He considered Wedge through the eyes of his younger self, too. Even though he had been far enough in the closet to visit Narnia, younger Bodhi still wouldn't have been able to resist stealing a glance at those hips and thighs; lean, active muscle had always been a particular catnip for him. Younger Bodhi may not have appreciated the personality, though. Wedge was a refined taste, and Bodhi's palate had matured since his younger days. 

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he dodged forward and around Wedge, getting to the door first. With an obnoxious grin, he opened the door and gestured Wedge through.

* * *

Luke made it until two, maybe three in the afternoon before his aching legs informed him that as fun as this trip had been, it was time to be done. He waited at the bottom of the slope for Ezra, who caught sight of Luke and trundled over happily. 

"Doing alright?" Ezra asked, his voice muffled by his balaclava. 

Luke nodded. "Thinking of wrapping things up." 

"Wanna go over to the Slopeside Bar?" Ezra asked, his eyebrows raising above his ski mask. 

Slopeside was designed so that you could ski straight into it. Luke hesitated, feeling like he should really go back to the lodge and check in on Wedge. He remembered, though, Bodhi pulling him aside and firmly informing him that Luke had better well fucking fully enjoy his last day on the slopes with Ezra, or Bodhi wouldn't be held responsible if Luke walked in on Wedge in a compromised position. 

Luke was torn between asking about what happened if the rest of the house got home early, and wouldn't Bodhi also be in a compromised position? He heard Bodhi answer the second instinctively, that you had to have something to compromise in order to be compromised. So he went with the first. 

"Oh, I don't really care about them. Let them catch an eyeful," Bodhi had said, and winked. Luke could feel himself blushing. Being friends with Bodhi was really just a masterclass in the many varied was your skin could heat up and turn pink. Luke had retreated from the conversation, thinking wryly to himself that he had probably blushed less when he was actually having sex with Bodhi. It was all somehow less embarrassing when Luke was personally involved. 

So, despite his nagging feeling that he should probably check on how Wedge was getting on, he said, "Sounds like fun," instead, and they made their way over to the bar. 

Ski gear got stowed in cubbies custom-built for that purpose, and Ezra threw himself into the joy of après-ski with enthusiasm, dragging Luke along after. There was alcohol, flirting, and even some dancing. Luke had forgotten how much he enjoyed the dance floor, and having Ezra twisting between his palms was a fun way of remembering. 

Dak hadn't been big on public dancing. He had always encouraged Luke to do it, go out and have some fun, I'll cheer from here. He'd indulge Luke in private, jazz on the stereo as they slow-danced around the living room. 

"You okay?" Ezra called over the music, pressing closer. 

Luke shook his head, the room suddenly too loud, too hot. His breathing felt choked, everything was _wrong and he couldn't—_

Ezra's fingers wound around Luke's wrist, tugging hard. When Luke glanced over at him, Ezra gave a reassuring nod and pulled Luke through the dance-floor, over to a quieter corner. "Doing okay?" he asked gently, stepping back to give Luke some space.

"I—" Luke ducked his head, embarrassed. "Last time I was in this bar, I was here with Dak." 

"Oh," Ezra said, softly understanding. "I'm sorry. Do we need to get out of here?"

Luke winced, glancing back to the dance floor. "I don't think..." He turned and took Ezra's hands, kissing the back of one. "I've been having a good time." He kissed the back of the other. "But it was suddenly all too much." 

Ezra squeezed Luke's hands. "I'm having a good time too." 

Luke gave a wry grin. "Well, maybe not right now." 

Ezra shook his head, stepping closer and pressing a slow kiss to Luke's cheek. "I used the present tense, and I meant it," he said softly, his breath warm along Luke's cheek. "I like you quite a bit. I can handle some rough moments."

Luke closed his eyes, and he had to admit, he enjoyed the feeling of having someone close. Of having someone care. "He's been gone a few years. But I'm still a minefield. Never know what's going to set me off."

Ezra smiled, Luke could feel the gesture along his cheek. "Better break out my metal detector then. I'm not scared off, Luke." Ezra pulled back, his deep blue eyes looking at Luke seriously. "But if you need some time alone to regroup, I understand that too." 

Luke looked down to where he was still holding Ezra's hands, then back up to Ezra. "No, I don't think I want to be alone right now." 

"So what do you want to do? Find somewhere quieter?" Ezra asked. 

"No..." Luke said slowly, taking a deep breath. Dak hadn't wanted him to be alone. And he had been having fun. "I think I'd like to take you back out on the dancefloor." 

Ezra's eyes brightened. "Really?" 

In response Luke started walking backward, towards the dancing crowd. He reached up and linked Ezra's hands around his neck, setting his hands back down on Ezra's hips. Ezra gave a little smile and pressed closer, swaying to the pounding rhythm of the music. Luke slid his hand around to the small of Ezra's back, tugging him closer still, until their bodies were flush, losing themselves in the music. 

* * *

When Luke and Ezra finally made it back to the lodge, it was late. Luke walked through the door of the cabin and blinked to smell sauteed onions and garlic, along with some fresh bread. He glanced over to the kitchen, and found clear evidence of dinner, mostly decimated, a few bread crusts, lonely noodles, and wilted leaves all that remained. 

"I made them save some for the two of you, it's in the fridge," came a voice from the couch. 

"Oooh. I'll reheat," Ezra said quickly, heading off towards their cabin's fridge. 

Luke wandered over and peered over the side of it, finding Bodhi sprawled along the cushions, Wedge sleeping on his chest. 

"Aw," slipped out of Luke before he could stop it. 

Bodhi grinned. "Latest round of painkillers knocked him __out__. Fair warning, I've told everyone else that if they tease Wedge awake I will hit them with the fireplace poker."__

_ __ _

"Seems reasonable," Luke said dryly, keeping his voice low. "How was the day?"

_ __ _

Luke was caught off guard by the way Bodhi smiled down at the top of Wedge's head, gentle and affectionate. The way nobody was when they had to look after an injured and defensive Wedge. Bodhi looked back up. "You know, it was a good day. Lots of rest, we got out for a bit, he was able to keep meals down, kept me company while I cooked. It was nice."

_ __ _

Luke nodded slowly. Bodhi, he was quickly coming to realize, was likely even better at taking care of Wedge than Luke was. A moment later, he chided himself. Bodhi was good to his friends. He always had been. Wedge was no exception. 

_ __ _

"How about you?" Bodhi asked, pitching his voice lower. "You're back late."

_ __ _

Luke licked his lips. "I was out dancing." 

_ __ _

Bodhi's eyes went wide. "Luke! Good for you!"

_ __ _

Luke shifted, a giddy energy between his shoulders. "It was fun." 

_ __ _

Bodhi looked at Luke seriously. "You two should take your dinner, the bottle of white that's on the bottom shelf, and lock yourself in your room. Feed each other morsels and get tipsy and see where the evening takes you." 

_ __ _

Luke blushed. Again. Thanks, Bodhi. "I don't know, I've had plenty of fun—" 

_ __ _

"There's chocolates in the freezer," Wedge mumbled. 

_ __ _

Luke and Bodhi both looked at the lump of pilot on Bodhi's chest.

_ __ _

Wedge blinked twice before turning his head slightly to look up at Luke. He didn't bother moving beyond that. "More romantic. Take those too. I hid them behind the ice tray." 

_ __ _

And with that, Wedge burrowed back against Bodhi's chest again. 

_ __ _

"You heard the man," Bodhi said seriously, nodding up at Luke. 

_ __ _

"Guess I have no choice," Luke said, smiling slightly. "Thanks for looking after him." 

_ __ _

Wedge gave a series of mutters that Luke perfectly understood as, 'I didn't need looking after." 

_ __ _

"He didn't need looking after," Bodhi said, shaking his head as he spoke. 'You're welcome,' he mouthed. 

_ __ _

Luke grinned, waving goodnight as he went to go find the chocolate.

_ __ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2020! Congrats on surviving 2019, the whole 2010's decade, for that matter. It may be an arbitrary measurement of the ongoing passage of time, but it's still fun to celebrate a big round number, isn't it! May we all kick ass going into 2020! 
> 
> I'm not one for resolutions, but I have set a goal of trying to finish this monster fic in the coming year. At least the draft...we'll see how long it takes to post everything, hm? 
> 
> How about you all? Are you the resolving sort? Feel free to share if you are :D


	17. Old Wounds and New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge goes back home, and tries to recover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
-Recovery from surgery (no graphic injury, but definitely some grumpy times and depictions of pain).  
-Related to that, painkiller use  
-Memories of past emotional abuse

Wedge flew back to San Francisco with only the faintest sense of embarrassment haunting him. Not over the injury, that clearly wasn't his fault, he couldn't control what other skiers did. But he was aware that during that last day he had been…overly affectionate. 

Spent most of the day cuddled on top of Bodhi, more like it. 

Well, he could blame the painkillers. And besides, Bodhi had insisted on staying. Wedge hadn't made him. It had been fun. Definitely not his normal, but fun. 

Now it was time to go back to reality. Rest and ice on his shoulder until the bruised muscle healed enough that he could get his medical back and fly again. In the meantime, there were plenty of ground-based matters that needed his attention. Not as exciting, but in four weeks, tops, he'd be back in the sky. 

Four weeks and one MRI scan later, his doctor was seriously informing him that he had a torn rotator cuff. Which meant he needed surgery. 

He hadn't thought too much about the fact that his shoulder was still aching, didn't really get alarmed until he noticed that he couldn't move his hand above his head properly. And it was getting worse, not better. Something uneasy had lodged in his chest, numbly sticking there as the doctor informed him that he was referring Wedge to a surgeon. 

It stayed there, mostly dormant, as Wedge went through the steps of setting up his appointment, confirming it was an outpatient surgery, making sure he had a ride back home. Throughout the process, that uneasy thing whispered that if Wedge had been more careful, if he hadn't gone back to work so quickly, if he could just take better care of himself, he wouldn't be in this mess. 

The surgery happened, Wes drove Wedge back home, and the lack of ease turned bitter, and Wedge had to fight the urge to snap at Wes when he asked, "You need anything?" 

"No," Wedge said shortly, swallowing down his anger (at himself, more than anything else) to grab his things—just a folder containing post-operative instructions and a sweater he hadn’t wanted to wrestle on over his shirt—and nodded goodnight. "Just going to get some sleep." 

"Alright, call if you need anything." 

Wedge made his way back up to his condo, tossing the care instructions on his mail pile and, miserable and woozy from the anesthesia, shut the curtains against the afternoon sunshine and crawled into bed. 

* * *

He crawled out of be two hours later, still feeling fuzzy, his head pounding and stomach churning. The general anesthesia and nerve block had worn off enough that his shoulder was starting to ache. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and realized that he hadn't asked Wes to take him by the pharmacy. 

He glanced over at the clock. Eight. Too late to bother anyone. Besides, he still had a half-used bottle of Vicodin pills from his rockclimbing accident a couple years back. That would do for now. 

He dubiously looked at the bottle, tried to convert the dosage to whatever his current prescription was. Two pills, he figured. He decided to play it safe and only take one. Wedge considered crawling back into bed, but the thought of getting fully horizontal made his shoulder ache. 

Grumbling, Wedge grabbed some ice cubes and wrapped them in a towel, before collapsing in the recliner with them between his shoulder and the leather of the chair back. He'd move it in a minute. 

He woke up in the dark, disoriented. He shook his head, and quickly became viscerally aware of _damp_. The ice had melted and slipped down his arm into his sling, leaving lukewarm damp almost-fabric stuck against his arm. Wedge hoisted himself out of his chair again, towel stuck to his shoulder, and turned to look at the stupidly expensive Swedish recliner he had bought himself years ago, a celebration of his move and promotion. 

The water couldn't be good for the leather. Wedge stumbled off to find a towel. 

He listlessly mopped at the fabric, grumbling the whole time that the recliner wasn't even _that good of a chair_. Wedge wanted to be the sort of person that loved minimalist, perfectly designed furniture, but he had to admit, Luke's horrible knock-off Lay-Z-Boy was more comfortable. Of course, he was never going to tell Luke that. He had his pride. 

Wedge gave up after the first couple passes, feeling dizzy, sick with a combination of hunger, nausea, pain, and the need to use the bathroom. 

Well, he could fix one of those things. 

Wedge made his way into the bathroom, gained a new (unwanted) knowledge of just how hard it was to pee one-handed, and made his way out, still feeling itchy and miserable from the damp sling. And achy. The Vicodin had worn off, but when Wedge picked up the bottle he was worried about how light it was. He shook it, and decided it was safer to wait as long as he could before the next dose. 

He hurt, and he was _awake_ in a fundamentally miserable way, considering the fact that it was quiet in the way only the thin hours of the morning were. Wedge caught a glance at a clock: 3:23 glowed green at him from his microwave. Lovely. His sleep schedule was royally fucked. 

Wedge opened the fridge, still feeling the aftermath of the anesthesia like a miasma through his system. But he was _hungry_ now, in a dizzy, lightheaded sort of way. He opened the fridge and let the yellow light from the single bulb illuminate the room. Nothing looked good. Nothing even looked—Wedge caught sight of the relish, and for some reason that sent his stomach flipping over on itself. 

Wedge slammed the fridge door shut, leaning his forehead against the outside of the door. He stood there for a long while, hurting and unsteady, feeling self-indulgently pitiful. Then he pulled himself together, grabbed a box of crackers, and made his way back over to the couch. 

Sleep wasn't at all inclined to visit, so Wedge tried to find something to distract himself. He tried to read and found he couldn't concentrate, tried to just put music on and found the pain eliminated all enjoyment. Television, which he rarely watched if given his druthers, at least managed to be a distraction. Wedge took hesitant bites of the saltine crackers, hoped his stomach wouldn't revolt, and became reluctantly acquainted with late-night television. 

At five, he remembered he was supposed to be icing his shoulder, he got up and put some ice _in a plastic bag_ and then wrapped that in a towel. He made it another two hours before he took another Vicodin and collapsed down into the recliner again. He spent a fitful half an hour trying to get comfortable, painkillers doing practically nothing, until finally exhaustion took him again. 

One of his last coherent thoughts was that really, he should go out and fill that prescription.

He didn't.

Two days later found him still on the recliner, getting his sleep in handfuls of catnaps rather than a proper overnight. He hurt too much to sleep deeply, and he was too tired to really do anything about it. So he wandered fitfully from the fridge to the sofa to the restroom and tried to get through things by sheer force of will. 

He managed a shower that morning, he was proud of that. His whole arm ached like a bitch, now, and after wrestling with the sling Wedge had found himself too tired to even manage a shirt. He sat on the couch, a bag of peas up against his shoulder, and fitfully flipped through channels. 

His phone buzzed, and Wedge grabbed for it, glad to have a distraction. 

Bodhi. Wedge smiled, probably his first real smile in a few days. He shook his head at his own ridiculousness and answered the phone. 

"It's the wounded slope warrior!" Bodhi said cheerfully, "How you doing? Got your medical back yet?" 

Wedge licked his lips. "Um. No. Actually...had to have surgery for it." The words were hard to choke out, a heavy sense of shame wrapped around them. 

("But you won't miss the party on Thursday, right?" Orman said, scowling down at Wedge. 

Wedge flinched, looking down at his ribs, "I don't—" 

"His ribs are cracked," the nurse cut in, a disapproving frown on her face. "Minimal activity of any kind for at least two weeks. Definitely no parties. It'll probably take at least six for them to fully heal."

Orman's anger turned into something like disgust. "Let's go," he said briskly, making no move to help Wedge up. The nurse pointedly held Wedge's bag out to Orman. He huffed, before reluctantly shouldering it. 

"I can't believe you'd do this to me. You know the dinner is important. What am I going to do, show up alone?" Orman hissed at him once they were past the hospital door. He sped up toward the car, leaving Wedge to limp behind.) 

"Oh shit," Bodhi said, his voice sympathetic. "You doing alright?" 

"Of course," Wedge lied. 

"You home?" Bodhi asked.

"Yes?" Wedge said, turning the answer into a question of his own. 

"I ask because I'm in San Francisco. Thought I'd come by and say hi, if you're alright with that. See you, see your place, all that."

Wedge curled up on himself a little more. "The surgery was just a couple days ago. I'm really not going to be up for...anything." 

Bodhi, to Wedge's surprise, burst out laughing. "Good lord, Wedge, I wasn't expecting a fuck. Do we have to have a chat again about how touching your cock doesn't suddenly make me no longer your friend?" 

"No, I just..." 

"Text me your address, I'll be there soon. You want me to pick up food on the way?" Bodhi asked. 

"Uh.." Wedge looked around at the apartment, sink full of unwashed dishes, clothes littered wherever he had dropped them, and infused with the olfactory funk of a room that had been lived in for a few days without being cleaned.

"Actually, I don't know food around here. I'll get there, we'll figure it out. Text me," Bodhi ordered. "See you soon," he said, then hung up. 

Wedge stared at his phone, baffled, then looked down at himself. Shirtless, aside from the sling and the gym shorts. Wedge thought about not texting Bodhi. But if he did that, Bodhi would call Luke, and then Wedge would get a concerned phone call from Luke, and... 

Wedge sighed and texted Bodhi his address. Then he struggled to his feet and tried to clean. Maybe he'd even manage to get a shirt on. 

Ten minutes later, still sore and now with a sharp pain in his shoulder, he collapsed back into the recliner, breathing hard. Fuck. He was useless. All he had managed was to fumble one arm through a robe. He couldn't even twist enough to get it over the other shoulder. 

Too soon, there was a knock at his door, and Wedge struggled his way upright to answer it. Even that movement caused his shoulder to ache. Wedge could feel the sticky sheen of sweat breaking out, tactile evidence of his misery. He fumbled the door open, and there stood Bodhi on the other side, poured into his Captain's uniform, as gorgeous as ever. 

"You look like crap," Bodhi said bluntly, making his way inside. He reached out, and brushed casually along Wedge's forehead, pushing Wedge's hair away from where it sat plastered to his sweat-damp forehead. "Overdue for your pain dose?" Bodhi asked, tucking his bag in next to Wedge's stand. 

Wedge stared at the bag. It fit the space. Felt like it belonged.

"Babe?" Bodhi asked again, starting to sound worried. 

Wedge shook his head. "I...um." He made a face, but there was no sense trying to hide. "I never filled the prescription. I've been managing with Ibuprofen." 

Bodhi gave Wedge a flat look. "Come on, let's get you sat down. I'm afraid you're going to faint." Bodhi gave Wedge his arm and walked with him back over to the couch. Wedge felt a dull heat on his cheeks when Bodhi reached down and delicately picked up a bag of very soggy peas between his index finger and thumb, grimacing as he set it on the coffee table. 

"Ran out of ice," Wedge mumbled, that hot lick of shame branding him again.

"I'm seeing that," Bodhi said, his tone gentle, not judgemental. He straightened, dusting his hands off. "So, the painkiller thing, is this an important personal stance?" 

Wedge shook his head. "I just…" Wedge sighed as he admitted, "I didn't get them filled. I had some at the house already—" Wedge abruptly realized that could be taken the wrong way. "From another injury. A couple years back. Not…" 

Bodhi was nodding seriously. "Understood." There was amusement lurking in his expression, and Wedge relaxed. That was better than pity. Or disgust. 

Bodhi reached down, grabbing the robe that was still half-draped on, and tucked it around the sling arm as well, so it hung a little more normally. "Okay," he said, his voice all business. "Where's your prescription?" 

Everything was still in a pile in his entryway, Bodhi grabbed the prescription, and also read through the surgery aftercare instructions. He wandered into the kitchen, Wedge winced at the thought of what he was seeing in there. Wedge's fridge opened and closed, as did his freezer. 

"You're well set on meals," Bodhi said, wandering back into the room, setting down a glass of water and a plate full of things easy to eat with one hand—grapes, apple slices, some crackers, some slices of cheese. 

"I did think to stock food beforehand, at least," Wedge said, not entirely able to keep the bitter note out of his tone. 

"Smart." Bodhi wandered past Wedge and opened Wedge's curtains and windows, letting bright sun and fresh air into the room. 

Wedge took a deep breath, still in pain but relief building. He felt better already.

"You need anything before I head out?" Bodhi asked. 

Wedge shook his head, still surprised by the care Bodhi was already showing. 

"Alright," Bodhi said, reaching down to run his hand along Wedge's cheek. "Back soon." 

When Bodhi left, the apartment started to feel oppressive again, and Wedge considered getting up again and trying to clean. Then he thought of Bodhi coming back to find him exhausted and even more in pain. That probably wouldn't end well. So he stayed on the couch and nibbled on the snack platter. 

Bodhi was gone longer than Wedge expected. He was just starting to entertain the idea that Bodhi had gotten lost when the door to his apartment clicked open, and Bodhi let himself back in.

"Darling, I'm back. Okay—" There was a grunt, and a rustle of plastic being settled on the floor. Wedge turned in time to see Bodhi straightening, piles of plastic bags by his feet, one small paper bag still in his hand. "I bring pills!" Bodhi said cheerfully, circling around the couch and pulling out the bottle. 

Bodhi supervised Wedge taking two of the pills, before stealing the bottle back to put the pills into something that would be easier to open one-handed. "How have you been sleeping?" Bodhi called. 

Wedge knew it was probably placebo at this point, but he would swear his shoulder already felt better. "Like crap." 

Bodhi laughed. "I figured," he said, coming back into the room with the pills in a plastic bag, bottle in there too so Wedge could read the instructions. "I meant logistically. Your aftercare instructions said that laying flat was probably going to hurt." 

Wedge winced. "They were right. I've been sleeping in the recliner." Wedge nodded over to his sleek, uncomfortable chair. 

Bodhi gave him an unimpressed look. "I was worried you were gonna say that. Okay. I can fix this. You take this," Bodhi tucked an ice pack back behind Wedge's shoulder, "and I'm going to go make your bed comfier." Bodhi ducked out of sight and returned carrying a giant bag. He waved it jauntily as he disappeared into Wedge's bedroom. 

Wedge looked after him, and decided to stop worrying about the mess that Bodhi was likely seeing. Bodhi had already seen this much. Might as well see the rest. 

Wedge sank back into the couch and closed his eyes. The actual ice pack was nice, contouring to his shoulder. And the painkillers were grabbing hold fast. Wedge sighed in relief, leaning his head back against the edge of the couch and breathing deeply. 

Wedge blinked awake again when Bodhi's hand was on his knee. "Come on," Bodhi said, reaching down to help lever Wedge off the couch. "Lets try bed again." 

Wedge blinked when he looked at his bed, a mountain of pillows dominated by one large triangle-shaped pillow, making it much easier to lay at an angle. 

Bodhi tucked Wedge into bed with a comical little peck on his forehead. "You need anything?" 

"A real kiss," Wedge said, then immediately regretted it. He was in no shape right now to be considered appealing, no matter how nice Bodhi was being.

Bodhi didn't seem to share Wedge's opinion. Bodhi's hand curved around Wedge's jaw and drew him into a kiss, sweet and warm and lingering. Bodhi kissed Wedge's lips, then his cheeks, then his forehead. "Sleep, darling." 

"You just got here," Wedge mumbled, exhausted beyond words but still worried he'd wake up alone. He was enjoying the company, he didn't want to waste it. 

"Yeah. So I'm going to raid your fridge, and then I'm probably going to nap myself. I'll be here when you wake up. Promise." 

Wedge listened as Bodhi made his way out of the room, and relaxed a little when he heard Bodhi starting to putter around in the kitchen, just like he said. Wedge sighed and mentally chided himself. Bodhi was nothing like Orman Tagge, the bastard of an ex-boyfriend that had bullied Wedge for getting himself injured and abandoned Wedge while he was healing. 

God, that had been years ago. Old wound, never really healed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Wedge. Things should get a bit better for him now, though. :D 
> 
> Fun fact, today is my birthday! I'm celebrating by getting a fic chapter posted! (Actually I mostly celebrated by taking the day off work and binging Netflix, but I am going out to dinner here soon). 
> 
> I hope everyone is doing wonderfully!


	18. Blueberry Muffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi isn't sure what he expected to find in San Francisco, but it wasn't...this. Wedge still managed to surprise him.

Bodhi shook his head as he gently closed the door behind him and started making his way toward the kitchen. 

Wedge still managed to surprise him. 

The general disaster of the apartment, that wasn't surprising, really, once Bodhi had two seconds to think about it. Wedge was stubborn and proud, of course he wouldn't ask for help with a little thing like recovering from surgery. If he even had people he could ask. Bodhi knew Wedge had friends, but there was a difference between friends and the sort of person you'd trust to see you fall apart. 

What surprised Bodhi was that he was apparently on the shortlist. He had, in retrospect, sort of bullied his way through the front door. But there was no mistaking the sheer relief in Wedge's eyes when Bodhi had started helping. He was comfortable accepting help from Bodhi, and Bodhi hadn't expected that. 

Hadn't expected the kiss, either. Apparently, even when Wedge was fucked by pain and exhaustion, he could still appreciate the aesthetic package of one Bodhi Rook. Well, good! Bodhi thought, giving a little shimmy as he slid through the kitchen entry. He was a damn fine package. 

Bodhi stared at the kitchen and considered his plan of attack. He wanted food, but he wanted the kitchen clean, first. And before he cleaned he wanted out of his shirt and slacks (remnants of the uniform, jacket hanging and epaulettes, wings and tie stowed before he went out shopping). So. Change first. 

Bodhi gathered up his change of clothes, found the bathroom, and after taking two steps past the door promptly nearly slipped in the tremendous puddle of water left outside the shower. There was a towel thrown ineffectually over half of it. He sighed and ruefully considered his damp sock. Wedge had tried, at least. 

Carefully sticking to the dry patches as he changed, Bodhi revised his timeline. Clean _everything_, then eat. No, that might take too long. Find a snack, clean everything, figure out more substantial food after that. 

Bodhi would put money on the fact that Wedge had power bars hiding somewhere in his kitchen. Bodhi had stolen enough out of Wedge's flight bag to be certain he had them on hand. 

Cleaning everything didn't take that long. Wedge's apartment clearly had a baseline of "spartan but neat" that had gotten destroyed post-surgery. Surface neglect, easily corrected. So Bodhi wiped and straightened and aired things out. There was something meditative about putting a space into order, especially considering the lingering unease at seeing his normally careful lover in such disarray. 

Bodhi even found a candle, deep in the back of Wedge's bathroom cabinet (he had been trying to find glass cleaner, no luck). But it was a cheerful little thing, so Bodhi put it out. 

The days of dishes were depressing, but more for the fact that it was painfully obvious Wedge hadn't been eating enough. The kitchen straightened faster than he expected, but when it was done, Bodhi found he still wasn't hungry yet. 

Exhaustion snuck up and hit him with a metaphorical blackjack. There it was, Bodhi thought as a yawn was wrenched out of him. Time to pay off the sleep debt. 

Bodhi gave Wedge's elegant, expensive couch a dubious once-over as he considered it. It didn't look very comfortable, he grumped, as he wrapped the blanket neatly folded over couch arm around himself and settled down into it. He made a face and wiggled. Okay, could be worse, but his was better. Hell, even Luke and Dak's old monster couch was better. But, any port in a storm, he mused, and settled down. At least the blanket smelled like Wedge.

It did not rate in the top ten best naps he had ever taken. Probably not the best hundred, he thought darkly, stretching out a crick in his back. Looking around, it seemed that Wedge was still sleeping, the apartment was quiet. Well, good. The man certainly looked like he needed the rest. 

Bodhi made his way back to the kitchen. The exhaustion and the strangeness of the visit had put him in an odd mood; he didn't feel hungry, he just felt more…out of it. He needed to do something grounding. Rummaging through Wedge's fridge, he found a box of blueberries on the edge of turning. He could do something with that. 

Cooking in someone else's kitchen was always an adventure. It told stories. 

Wedge had flour, but it was tucked far back in the pantry, relegated through lack of use. Eggs and butter were both fresh, that was good, and he did have a decent spice collection, but aside from four seasoning blends in the front, the lids were all a bit dusty. So, purchased at some point, but not much used. 

As Bodhi started mixing the ingredients together, he decided he was split between the story that Wedge had bought them all off some checklist when he was first stocking his kitchen, or the idea that someone else had bought them for Wedge. Luke, maybe. Or Wedge's parents. 

Bodhi cleaned up the mess he had made while the muffins baked. The oven beeped, and he had just managed to find the potholders when Wedge showed up in the doorway, still shirtless aside from his sling, blinking and looking confused. 

Bodhi looked down at the muffins, back over to Wedge, a sudden flash of embarrassment running over him. He had just…made himself at home. This wasn't something he just _did_. There were only two kitchens, aside from his own, that he felt comfortable enough to bake in without asking. 

Except, apparently, it was actually three three kitchens. Maybe it was the Luke Effect, a sort of secondhand closeness. It was the best explanation Bodhi could think of.

Bodhi threw on a rueful smile, glancing around the kitchen, at the dishes in drying in the rack, to the muffins as he settled them on the cooling rack, before looking back to Wedge. "Ah…I probably should have asked before using your kitchen…" 

"It's fine," Wedge said, looking a little stunned. Bodhi wasn't sure if it was the nap, the medications, or the disorientation of finding his fuckbuddy baking in his kitchen. Wedge blinked and did an adorable shuffle over to the muffins, leaning forward and poking one. 

"Oy. Those are hot!" Bodhi shooed the dazed Wedge away from the burn hazard. "How you feeling? Hungry?" 

"I haven't really been hungry for the last couple days…" Wedge shook his head a little, apparently coming back to himself. "I should eat."

Bodhi decided to take the change of heart at face value. "Good good. You've got some lettuce that's going to turn dodgy in a couple days. I'll turn it into a salad, find some toppings. Something like that." He glanced over at the clock. "Go take a pain med. It's been five hours since your last dose. Bottle says every four to six hours." 

"I'll wait for after dinner," Wedge said. "I do better with food in me." 

Bodhi, gave Wedge a thumbs up, then shooed him over to the kitchen table, scolding him away from the muffins again. 

The salad was passable, Bodhi supposed. He preferred baking to cooking. It felt more magical. But Wedge cleared his plate and wound up getting seconds, so Bodhi must have done well enough.

Bodhi smiled across the table, feeling a rush of fondness for the man across from him. His secondhand construction of Wedge over the years had been something…not entirely flattering. He had been a specter in Bodhi's mind: dour-faced, serious, the sort of person that believed in hard work, though also loved and supported the people around him. He had taken on a role in Bodhi's mind as both a standard that Bodhi had to live up to, and a foil that Bodhi could press against. 

Wedge in person was nothing like the construction in Bodhi's head. Well, okay, there were definite similarities, but it was like Bodhi had the outline right and had filled it in with flat greyscale instead of all of Wedge's vibrant color. From the first moment he had caught a glimpse of Wedge in the restaurant, he had been struck by the vitality Wedge had, one that the photographs he had seen never quite captured.

On and on, Wedge kept surprising him. He sharp and stubborn and challenging in all the best ways. He was funny, wielding a sly and unexpected humor. And yet, somehow, he still managed moments of softness, a sort of gentle tactile seeking that made Bodhi want to never stop touching him.

And now this, Wedge letting him into his vulnerability, taking comfort from Bodhi that he had so clearly refused to show himself. Bodhi was very glad he had pressed Luke into arranging their meeting. Wedge was a definite positive in his life. 

"That was good," Wedge said, pushing his plate back. 

"Did you leave room for a muffin?" Bodhi asked, shaking himself out of his reverie. 

From the excited look on Wedge's face, the answer was yes. 

Wedge, the bastard, could make eating a muffin look straight out of a porn flick, his eyes closed as he chewed, long lines of his throat working, a soft sigh following his swallow. A man could get an unfortunate boner, watching Wedge eat. 

Wedge opened his eyes, his gaze capturing Bodhi's and Bodhi idly hoped Wedge hadn't developed any mindreading powers. 

"Well, that was amazing," Wedge said softly, still staring Bodhi down with that strange soft intensity. 

Bodhi felt heat hit his cheeks, and the moment was just too much, he ducked his head and looked away, brushing off the words with a quick, "Nothing much. Just a hobby." 

Wedge gave an unimpressed grunt. "False humility doesn't suit you." 

An embarrassed laugh forced its way out of Bodhi's chest, as he looked back over at Wedge with a grin. "Ah, well, not that many people know about the baking. Which means that not too many people know how _amazing_—"

"That's better." 

"—I am at it.” Bodhi stuck out his tongue. "Just not quite used to those compliments. I am British, after all." 

Wedge gave a very pleased smile at that, and Bodhi couldn't help but smile back. Odd. He had never considered baking a vulnerable point for him before. But apparently it was, and apparently Wedge was the sort of person that it was safe to show the tender areas to.

Good to know. 

They wound up cuddled on the couch in a configuration that was familiar to them now. Bodhi carefully arranged himself so Wedge could lean back against his chest, Wedge's still-bare chest a lovely canvas for his fingers to paint lines across. 

Bodhi gently cuddled closer to Wedge, and engaged in a little light debate of what was appropriate post-nap, pre-sleep television. He refused news, and Wedge protested late-night cartoons. They eventually found common ground with a rerun of Hunt for Red October. 

Bodhi watched the familiar scenes and chatted with Wedge about the soundtrack. As they talked Bodhi traced swirling lines around the fine hairs at Wedge's belly. He was a little worried that Wedge would feel pressured, but instead, he melted back even further into Bodhi's arms. It was enough that Bodhi felt safe mouthing a few lazy kisses against Wedge's neck. There wasn't any heat to it, but Bodhi caught Wedge giving a soft sigh of delight, so Bodhi figured he was doing something right. 

Wedge fell asleep shortly after that. Bodhi affectionately nuzzled against Wedge's temple. Sweet, stubborn man. It really was nice to be trusted like this. Bodhi's eyes closed in contentment, enjoying the sensation of the warm bulk of Wedge against him, and let himself doze.

When he twitched awake again, there was a disorienting moment he didn't know where he was or what had happened, and then...

"You should sleep," Wedge said, shifting to try to get off of Bodhi. “In a proper bed.”

Bodhi helped Wedge disentangle himself from the couch. Once he was mostly free, Bodhi informed him, "You too, darling. You fell asleep first. Still paying off that sleep debt." Bodhi paused, realizing there was an important logistical question that needed answering. "So which bed do you want me in?" 

"Mine," Wedge answered quickly, without even taking a moment to think. His certainty warmed Bodhi's heart. "Though the pillows…" 

"I'm game to make it work if you are," Bodhi said, standing himself. “Love a good pillow fort.”

Wedge got settled in his pillow pile, and, after a moment's tactical consideration, Bodhi decided the best place to be was stretched next to him, further down the bed. Bodhi threw his arms around Wedge's thighs and placed a kiss to his hip. 

It wasn't the most traditional cuddle, and it certainly wasn't the most convenient. But Bodhi found himself forgetting about all of that, as Wedge's free hand came down to lay along the back of Bodhi's head, fingers scritching a lazy pattern through his hair. Bodhi gave a happy sigh and closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuddlessssss. This is definitely one of those "everyone gets enough sleep" wish-fulfillment chapters. Actually, come to think of it, sleep and baking! We're getting ALL sorts of domestic up in here :D


	19. Sakura Blossoms and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a good sleep, Wedge does, in fact, feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter-specific warning: Kink negotiation, ice play_
> 
> HI I'm alive! So sorry for the delay in posting - I severely overestimated my ability to do real-life things that involved a lot of people and write/edit fic at the same time. In line with that - I'm going to step down to posting every other week. This will let me build up the buffer again, and also hopefully avoid another 'ack, life got busy' delay like this one. I hope to get back to weekly posting, and I'll signal in the A/N if and when I do.

"So, how are you feeling today?" Bodhi asked, as he scrambled some eggs.

Wedge was feeling pretty well, actually. He had slept enough to finally beat back the exhaustion that had been dragging at him since the surgery. He felt energetic, and the clean morning light through his window boyed his mood even more. Normally, Wedge would be itching to move, get out in the garden and enjoy the sight of the clouds drifting by against the blue skies. Right now, though, a different view had his attention.

Bodhi was cooking shirtless, and Wedge was utterly captivated by the way Bodhi's hair fell on the back of his neck, tapering to the trail of his spine, which Wedge's eyes could follow until it disappeared into pajama pants. The pants were black, silky, and just barely held onto Bodhi's hips by a drawstring. Wedge wished he felt well enough to reach around and tug the drawstring loose, let the pants slide off of Bodhi's hips altogether. Wedge imagined Bodhi's gorgeous ass on display, imagined bending Bodhi over the kitchen counter and fucking him hard.

"You okay?" Bodhi turned back to Wedge at the table, raising an eyebrow at whatever expression he found on Wedge's face.

Wedge blushed and looked away.

"Libido's starting to come back?" Bodhi asked in a gentle tease.

"Not—not really." Wedge stumbled over the words. "I'm too tired to want to do anything about it."

Tired. Broken. Same difference.

Bodhi hummed. "Still. It's nice to be appreciated." He wandered away from the eggs and caught Wedge's chin between his fingers, lifting Wedge's face to kiss him gently. And then again, less gently. It was a kiss that made Wedge feel seen. Appreciated. There wasn't any pressure to perform behind it. That was Bodhi all over, wasn't it? Joy in the ever-present now.

"Shit, the eggs," Bodhi said, and dashed back to the oven, leaving Wedge laughing.

"So what are we feeling up to today? More television?"

Wedge swore he could feel the walls of his condo closing in on him. He shook his head. "I'm feeling better. I need to get out."

Wedge almost suggested a trip to his rooftop garden, before he remembered that Bodhi hadn't seen it before. And right now, his garden was not looking its best. Early spring meant the garden was sending out enthusiastic shoots and scraggly branches, and Wedge hadn't been out there to prune since before the ski trip. It was probably his pride talking, but when Wedge showed his garden to Bodhi, he wanted it to look its best.

"You feeling up to going out?" Bodhi asked.

"Something easy," Wedge affirmed. "Maybe...Japantown is nearby. It's a little early, but the cherry blossoms should still look decent?" Wedge looked over at Bodhi, eyebrows raised with a question.

Bodhi answered it with a cheerful grin. "Oh, perfect. I love catching a Narita flight around this time of year. Haven't managed it yet." Bodhi visibly tamped down on his enthusiasm. "You sure you're up to this? I don't want to push you too hard."

Wedge gave a rueful smile. It was, he had to admit, a reasonable concern. "I am going stir-crazy. And I do feel better. Promise, if it gets to be too much, I'll cry uncle and let you take me home again." 

Bodhi gave him a skeptical look, but nodded his head in approval. "Sounds fun, let's go."

Wedge and Bodhi meandered through the gardens of Japantown until they found a likely bench. Bodhi planted them both there and then wound his fingers through Wedge's free hand, leaning his head on Wedge's good shoulder. Wedge suspected it was mostly a tactic to keep him from moving, but as far as tactics went, it was a good one.

The trees weren't at their full bloom, but they were already studded with pale pink blossoms, branches waving with ethereal beauty. Wedge relaxed against the bench and let his eyes drift from branch to branch, while Bodhi kept up a running commentary about the various passer's-by.

Wedge took a deep breath and soaked in the world: the sound of Bodhi's warm voice, the beauty of the branches, the sun on his skin. He almost forgot about his immobilized arm and the pain in his shoulder.

"Sushi?" Bodhi asked after his stomach gave a growl that interrupted their reverie. "I know it's cliche, but…"

"I know a place," Wedge said. "My treat."

Wedge took Bodhi to the best sushi place he knew outside of Japan. It was a little place tucked inside a Japanese mall, he took the server aside and ordered an indulgent multi-course tasting menu.

About the time a third tiny, elegant plate of buttery fish with perfectly balanced sauces was settled in front of Bodhi, Bodhi looked up with an appreciative eyebrow raise. "You really know how to treat a guy."

Wedge swallowed around a lump in his throat, not even attempting to put into words just how inadequate a repayal of Bodhi's earlier kindness this was. "I try," he said instead.

"You succeed," Bodhi said, toasted Wedge with a small glass of sake.

After the lunch, Wedge reluctantly pointed them back toward home. "Pain is getting worse."

Bodhi hummed an affirmation and guided Wedge toward a taxi. Wedge knew better than to protest he'd be fine walking. He sent Bodhi into the taxi cab first with the selfish reason that he wanted to hold Bodhi's hand on the trip home.

What a silly, grade-school longing. And yet, the feeling of Bodhi's fingers winding through his own felt comforting in a way he couldn't put into words.

When they were back at the apartment, Bodhi shook the bag of pain medication at Wedge. "I'll get you some water."

Wedge looked at the clock. "No, just an ice pack."

Bodhi stopped, looked at him, then looked at the same clock. "It's been more than four hours. And you're hurting."

("You could get ready quickly," Orman said pleasantly. It was as kind as he had been in days. "I can still come by and pick you up. I'd rather have dinner with you."

"I…" Wedge took a deep breath and felt the pain deep in his chest. "I can't. Orman, my ribs are _cracked_. The doctor said—"

"It's a suggestion," Orman said, his voice souring.

"One that I'm following," Wedge replied, his voice going tight. _Don’t make me say it hurts._

"Stubborn bastard," Orman spat, all kindness gone from his voice. "I can't believe you'd do this to me.")

Wedge took a deep breath, feeling an echo of that old ache. "It hasn't been six hours."

Bodhi raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "And you're going to be stubborn about that, are you? Fair enough. Go get off your feet, I'll fetch you some ice."

Wedge let out his breath in a slow exhale. "Thank you."

"I mean, I get it," Bodhi called from the kitchen. "Our line of work, it pays to be careful." His voice got louder as he came closer again. "Don't want to fuck around with anything that gets you addicted."

Bodhi's hand was gentle against Wedge's shoulder as he nudged Wedge forward on the couch and settled an icepack against Wedge's shoulder. Wedge leaned back again with a sigh of relief as the cold took the edge off the pain.

Bodhi circled around the couch, coming to a stop in front of Wedge. "So, got a plan for the next hour or so? Will television be a good distraction?"

Wedge shook his head. "No." He glanced over at the side-table, a neglected trade magazine sitting on top of it. "I might try reading." 

"Or you could let me distract you," Bodhi said casually, in a tone of voice that did absolutely nothing to foreshadow the filthy kiss he pulled Wedge into.

It was good, it was so good, the slide of Bodhi's hand, the press of Bodhi's lips, the play of Bodhi's tongue. Wedge was gasping into the kiss, but as much as he wanted to reach up and pull Bodhi down on top of him…

"I can't," Wedge said regretfully, as they parted. He gave his strapped-up arm an involuntary glance. "Raincheck?" he asked, hoping the plaintive note in his voice wasn't as obvious to Bodhi as it was to his own ears.

"Just sit there?" Bodhi asked, bending over to wrap his hands around Wedge's knees, nudging them apart. "Honestly, my dear, I'm not asking more than that."

Wedge let his legs fall apart, even as he protested, "I'm really not up for…"

"I'm not expecting you to return the favor," Bodhi grabbed a throw pillow off the couch and tossed it between Wedge's feet. He gracefully fell to his knees, leaving no room for ambiguity of intention as he reached for Wedge's waistband.

"I haven't gotten hard since the surgery," Wedge finally admitted, face flaming with embarrassed heat. "Between the pain and the exhaustion…" 

Bodhi paused with his hands against Wedge's fly, running a thumb over the button. He leaned a cheek against Wedge's thigh, looking up at Wedge. "Not a dealbreaker, darling. I've enjoyed some cockwarming in my time."

Wedge had no idea what cockwarming was, and he tried to keep that from showing on his face.

"You know, if you're actually not excited about this, I have no interest in trying to convince you. On the other hand…" Bodhi said lightly, "You've had a couple days of rest, and I've caught you staring at me like you're a starving man and I'm filet mignon. Bet I can make you hard." Bodhi turned his head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the seam of denim against Wedge's thigh. "Bet I can make you come."

That required absolutely no translation. And the prickling excitement along the back of his neck let Wedge know exactly what his answer would be. "What are the terms?"

Bodhi grinned. "I make you come before it's time for your next pain dose. So"—Bodhi looked at the clock—"fifty-five minutes. Call it a bottle of booze? Loser buys, their choice, twenty dollar minimum."

"Fifty," Wedge said. "I have standards."

Bodhi gave a delighted laugh, proclaimed, "You have a deal," then prodded Wedge to help him strip Wedge's lower half bare.

For someone trying to win a bet, Bodhi took his time about things. Wedge had to fight to keep from squirming as Bodhi ran kisses up the inside of his thigh, skipped over his cock entirely, and trailed kisses back down the other leg. Bodhi's fingers stroked the soft underside of Wedge's knee, ran up the outside of his legs, played in the dip of Wedge's hipbone.

And still, nothing so much as brushed his cock. Wedge made an involuntary noise of impatience and tried to nudge Bodhi closer with his ankle. He could feel Bodhi's smile against his skin, and then a moment later Bodhi _nipped_ his tender inner thigh. Wedge gasped, and Bodhi doubled down, worrying at the skin until it felt almost painful.

Bodhi stopped just before things became unpleasant, laying a gentle kiss against the fevered skin. "You're going to feel that tomorrow," Bodhi murmured, drawing the slight stubble of his jaw along the skin. "You're going to remember this."

"Fuck," Wedge choked out, his legs trembling from the attention. Bodhi gave a smirk and turned to Wedge's other thigh. Despite being still untouched, Wedge's cock was twitching in interest, half-erect just from anticipation. Wedge stretched his free hand across the top of the couch and gripped the cushion, trying to hold onto some semblance of dignity as Bodhi sucked bruising kisses down Wedge's thighs.

By the time Bodhi deigned to stroke his hand along Wedge's cock, Wedge was already desperate for it, almost choking on his want. He grit his teeth with impatience as Bodhi stroked him with one hand and rummaged for a condom with the other, sealing the latex over Wedge's now-hard erection.

With a smile, Bodhi leaned down and sucked Wedge into his mouth, Wedge's cock suddenly surrounded by perfect heat. "Fuck, Bodhi, you're—"

Bodhi pulled off Wedge's cock again, hovering over it, his lips almost brushing. As Wedge hissed in frustration, Bodhi murmured, the tips of his lips just brushing Wedge's cock, "Yes? What am I?"

"You're infuriating," Wedge bit out.

"Yes. And?" Bodhi asked, before running his tongue in a circle around the head of Wedge's cock.

"The sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen," Wedge said, desperately.

Bodhi winked and slid the rest of Wedge's cock in his mouth in one smooth gesture.

"Gorgeous," Wedge said, his fingers clenching around the couch cushion.

Bodhi's happy hum vibrated around his cock, and Wedge groaned. "You're…_audacious_," he whispered, and Bodhi rewarded Wedge with sudden suction, Bodhi's cheeks hollowing.

Calling Bodhi 'shameless' lead Bodhi to pull off and tease at Wedge's balls. Wedge, nearly writhing on the couch from the alternating stimulation, gasped that Bodhi was 'talented.' That earned him attention back on his cock again, and Bodhi's hands sneaking up the underside of his shirt. Wedge felt his orgasm start to rise, and murmured, "You're perfect."

Bodhi pulled off of him with a laugh, causing Wedge to groan in frustration. "Now there's a bold statement. Perfect at giving blowjobs, _maybe._"

Wedge gave Bodhi an exasperated look as he felt that high peak of pleasure fade away again. "A perfect tease, maybe."

"Oh darling," Bodhi purred, a wicked smile on his face. "You have no idea."

And then he licked Wedge's cock from root to head, achingly slowly.

No amount of protest on Wedge's part could convince Bodhi to speed up, as he drew line after deliberate line against the underside of Wedge's cock. It was enough to keep Wedge interested, those little bursts of pleasure, but not enough to actually _get anywhere_.

Wedge collapsed back against the couch, frustrated with the teasing but resigned to it. Just as he was almost starting to enjoy the deliberate pace, Bodhi grabbed Wedge's thighs and forced them further apart, digging his thumbs into the tender skin he had worried earlier, and then immediately on top of that sudden ache, swallowed Wedge down to the hilt.

"Shit!" Wedge shouted as the dual sensations crashed over him, belatedly giving a worried glance at his shared wall. That was loud.

Moments later, there wasn't any part of Wedge worried about proprietary. That was stolen away by Bodhi's tongue, dancing against his skin, finally building pleasure. Wedge was going to come, and fast. This was one bet he was happy to lose. He threw his head back and—

Bodhi slapped Wedge's hip and pulled off of him, standing to his feet.

Wedge gave Bodhi an aghast look. Bodhi responded with a smile and a cheerful, "I'm getting thirsty. Are you?"

"Fuck you," Wedge managed through clenched teeth, his cock physically aching with how close he was. "Get back down there."

"In a minute," Bodhi said dismissively, and started toward the kitchen.

Wedge looked down at his neglected cock and strongly considered just jerking himself off out of spite.

"Oh!" Bodhi said, popping back into Wedge's field of vision. "Don't let this go." The remote from the side table was pressed into his hand, and Wedge took it without thinking. Bodhi looked from Wedge's now-full hand, to his immobilized arm, to his straining cock, and winked. Then he ambled away again.

"Fuck you," Wedge called again, with feeling, but this was a _challenge_ now and Wedge was damned if he was going to lose.

The wait felt like an eternity. Wedge tried to ride that sharp edge of pleasure, the tightened coiling of his body, but it faded. His awareness widened again, away from his pelvis, back into the rest of his body. He became aware, of the pleasant tenderness of the bruises along his inner thigh, the less pleasant pain of his shoulder, rising again.

Wedge's impatience stretched, but before it could break, Bodhi reappeared, carrying two glasses of water and crushed ice.

"Finally," Wedge muttered, as Bodhi took the remote out of his hand and replaced it with the tall glass of water. 

"So impatient," Bodhi tutted, taking a sip and falling to his knees again. "Maybe we need to teach you some self-control."

And then Bodhi locked eyes with Wedge, and sucked a mouthful of crushed ice into his mouth.

"You'd better not be…" Wedge started.

Bodhi smirked and edged closer to his cock. Wedge flinched in anticipation.

Bodhi sighed, then backed up and swallowed. Wedge relaxed again, his relief more obvious than he had intended it to be.

"Really wish we had set up a color system beforehand," Bodhi grumbled, switching the hand he held the glass in, then running a cold hand along Wedge's thigh. "I don't know you well enough yet to know what's play fighting and what's a real no."

Wedge shivered. "Uh…"

No. He didn't want ice around his cock. Who wanted ice around their cock? He could just...say no, and then the blowjob was back on. Clearly, he wasn't the sort of person who…

Bodhi arched an eyebrow at him.

…he was curious, damn it. And he trusted that Bodhi didn't just bring it up to torture him. Wedge considered what Bodhi meant by 'color system', took a guess, and said, "Green."

"Hm?" Bodhi asked.

Wedge nodded toward the ice water. "Green. I reserve the right to be loudly irritated and protest the whole time, but that doesn't mean I'm not green."

A smile spread across Bodhi's face, like he had received an unexpected gift. "Yellow is…"

"Yellow is back to the regular blowjob, please, Red is fuck no stop. And right now, I'm green, so _please_ get back on my cock."

"So impatient," Bodhi said again, a tangible change stealing over him as he sank back into the mood. His smile faded, his shoulders drew back, but his eyes were as warm as ever when he said, "I'll have to teach you some self control." He took another mouthful of crushed ice again.

Wedge still couldn't help but twitch away. "You fucking bastard, don't you dare—"

Cold enveloped his cock, reminding him of nothing so much as his time spent swimming in the frigid winter ocean. It was freezing, it almost hurt, and just as he wanted to pull away, say yellow and get out, the shocking cold faded as the ice melted. Bodhi swallowed around Wedge's cock, a strange sensation, and pockets of heat started to bloom where there had been freezing a moment before. Wedge gave a full-body shiver and could feel himself break out in goosebumps, his skin confused by the shocking pleasure.

But definitely interested, as his cock quickly grew rock-hard in Bodhi's hot mouth. By now, Wedge wasn't surprised when Bodhi pulled off, though he still hissed in dismay when he saw Bodhi take another large drink.

"How many times are you going to do this, you—" And then cold hit Wedge again. His body knew what to expect more this time, which made it better and worse. The shock was more intense. He wanted to wrench away, he wanted to thrust forward. He wanted to fuck the ice, fuck it until that bitter cold receded and offered up the liquid heat again.

Bodhi moved his tongue and the ice did fade, Wedge shuddered at the warmth, moaning at how good it felt after the frost. The heat made him boneless, relaxed, so fucking turned on...and then Bodhi pulled off of him again.

"At least twice more," Bodhi said, and right about the time that Wedge realized that Bodhi was answering his question, there was a clink of ice moving and the cold wrapped around him once more.

Wedge gave up trying to anticipate it, just cursed and moaned and let Bodhi work. He couldn't say whether or not he was close anymore, whether an orgasm was lurking. He stopped trying to control, and just accepted the strange shifting pleasure.

Cold gave way to heat, doused by chill, then built to burning again. The heat built, and built, and finally, Bodhi didn't pull back. He gripped Wedge's hips and bobbed his head and Wedge's orgasm slammed into him with a shock. He pulsed, and pulsed, wave after wave of pleasure running through him, one of the most exquisitely drawn out climaxes of his life.

He made an inarticulate noise, his whole body trembling, gasping at the intensity of his release. "God," his breath hitched. "God, that was—fuck…"

He opened his eyes again, to find Bodhi standing now, stretching out his legs. "That was…" he tried again, and failed. He groaned, throwing his head back.

Bodhi stepped closer. "It rather was, wasn't it." Bodhi's fingers found Wedge's cheek, and he pulled Wedge up a little, into a kiss.

When they parted, Wedge opened his eyes to find Bodhi smiling at him, fonder than he had any right to look. Bodhi ran his thumb along Wedge's cheek. "Sometimes I know what I'm doing."

Wedge looked away, the intimacy too much. "Lousy way to win a bet, though," he shot back, instead.

"Perfect way to win a bet. Two minutes until your pain dose."

Wedge's eyes flew back to Bodhi, taking in his incredibly satisfied grin. Wedge blinked, and looked over at the clock. A creeping awareness stole over him. "You...planned that? Timed it?"

"Harder than I thought. You were bloody responsive. That's why I went to get the ice," Bodhi admitted, flopping on the couch next to Wedge.

"You're evil," Wedge said respectfully.

Bodhi opened his mouth, rubbing his fingers along the hinge of his jaw. "Not at all. Greater good. Exactly how much did you think about your shoulder in the last hour?"

Wedge shook his head.

"Exactly." Bodhi gave him a lazy salute. "Pills are on the side table, and…I brought you water."

Wedge looked at the glass of water, which he had miraculously managed to keep from spilling, and burst out in a laugh. "You think of everything."

Bodhi wiggled down on the couch, propping his bare feet against Wedge's thigh. "I try. I look forward to my bottle of booze."

"You've earned it," Wedge said, after he finished gulping down his pain medication. He reached down to take Bodhi's foot in his good hand, drawing it across his lap to work his fingers into the arch. Bodhi moaned and melted back into the couch.

Wedge swallowed, a lump in his throat as he looked over at Bodhi. Indolent, indulgent, and one of the most generous men Wedge had ever known. No wonder Luke loved him. He was easy to love.

Dread stole of Wedge at that last thought. Fuck. He knew better. He knew better than to get his heart involved. Bodhi would be good to him for as long as it lasted, but this thing between them, _it wasn't going to last_. Bodhi had been clear, had never promised anything more than he was willing to offer.

If Wedge got hurt, it was on him.

But he looked over at Bodhi, and he knew he didn't have any sort of strength to push Bodhi away, not even to protect himself. So with a firm talk with his heart, to keep the damn thing from getting any sort of ideas, Wedge kept on rubbing Bodhi's feet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi is a crafty one :D 
> 
> These two manage to be both very good and very bad at feelings, and it's a lot of fun to explore that space between them. (grins)


	20. Boooooooyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Ezra have an unexpected conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! Sorry about the delay with this one - even with the every-other week posting, life is really busy right now.

"So," Ezra said, sitting across from Luke, running his finger along the rim of his martini glass. "I've got sort of a dumb question for you."

"I can't wait to hear it," Luke said, leaning in closer across their small table along the edges of a moderately-crowded bar. The late afternoon sun bathed Ezra's face in a pale yellow glow, making his dark blue eyes shockingly intense across the table. 

"Are you my boyfriend?" Ezra asked. 

Luke's breath caught, and he tried to cover it with a quick sip of his old-fashioned. 

Ezra spread his hands. "Sorry, I know it's out of nowhere. But someone asked me the other day, and I realized…I had no idea."

"I...um…" Luke gave a rough exhale. "I'm not seeing anyone else." 

"I know!" Ezra threw his hands up in a shrug. "And neither am I. And we get together pretty often when we're both in town. That's kinda what makes it confusing."

"That's...fair," Luke allowed. "I hadn't thought about it…" 

"Which is why I bring it up," Ezra said, lightly, but persistently. 

Not letting Luke off the hook. Well, that was understandable. Ezra had been keeping him steady company since the ski trip, since Bodhi's wine and Wedge's chocolate had borne some very enjoyable results. Ezra had kept him company through the winter, and now it was late may, and even cold New York was feeling the springtime. But even though they hung out often and texted even more, Luke had never thought about… 

"I'm a cad." Luke's eyes widened in a horrified realization. 

Ezra burst out laughing. "I—I think," he managed through chuckles, "you need—need to be seeing more than one guy to earn 'cad' status. You're just a bit dense at the moment." 

"You say like that's better," Luke grumped, moving his drink awkwardly between his hands. 

"It _is_ better!" Ezra protested. "Okay, not dense. Maybe just…slow—"

"Oh, now that's—"

"Slow getting back into things!" Ezra raised his palms in surrender. "Mercy, mercy, stop glaring." 

Luke let his smile fade, sighing a little as he said, "I have had...two boyfriends in my entire life. Three if you count my whirlwind fifth-grade romance." 

"What kind of a monster wouldn't count that?" Ezra asked. He leaned in with a grin. "Did you share juice boxes?" 

"We were much too mature for juice boxes. We _held hands_ behind the gym after school." Luke nodded seriously.

Ezra widened his eyes and brought his hand to his mouth. 

Luke grinned. His smile faded, as he admitted, "Thinking about formalizing this…it really wasn't on my radar." 

"And that's really why I brought it up. Just to...nudge it on there. For the record, I'm in favor. But I definitely don't need an answer now."

"Thanks," Luke said, beyond grateful for Ezra's patience. 

"Not a problem. I'll be really honest with you, it wasn't on my radar either until my choir director brought it up." 

Luke raised a finger. "Hold on a minute. Choir director?" 

"Ah," Ezra colored slightly, mostly showing in his neck. "Yeah he's...kinda a mentor. Overinvolved." 

"Not really what I was trying to point out. You sing?"

"Oh!" Ezra perked up. "Yes! I'm not a soloist or anything, but I've learned to blend in nicely…hey! You should come to one of our rehearsals!"

Luke leaned in, fixing Ezra with a serious expression. "Are you just saying this so your choir director has a chance to polish a shotgun while he asks what my intentions are?" 

Ezra snorted. "Um. No. But…he might. No shotgun!" Ezra shook his head. "But! My _plan_ is to woo you with the sweet, sweet sound of my singing." 

"Oh really." 

"Yes," Ezra said, winking conspiratorially, "I hear it's great for wooing. Top notch woo-ship."

"Woo-ship." 

"Rrrromance," Ezra said, rolling out the 'R.'

Luke burst out laughing, and Ezra settled back in his chair, looking pleased to have made Luke laugh. 

"Why not," Luke said, breath still hitching with amusement. "I'm certainly up for giving it a try." 

"Really?" Ezra asked, surprised. 

Luke nodded. "Sure. If they don't mind a guest...it could be fun." 

* * *

Luke gave the community center a dubious look, flattening his lips and tucking his hands in his pockets. The idea of attending a rehearsal had been fine when Ezra suggested it, smiling across the cocktails with enthusiasm. Now, though, Luke mostly just wondered what he was doing. Going to listen to a room full of strangers sing. He could be snuggling with his cat, instead. 

_It'll make Ezra happy._

Luke sighed. He used to go to things like this all the time. He hadn't thought he was isolating himself, but it did seem like he was turning into more of a homebody, without Dak.

Funny. Between the two of them, Luke had been the more outgoing, nudging them out of the house to a local play, or a volunteer fundraiser, or whatever else seemed fun. Luke enjoyed being part of the local community. Dak had joked that it was a good thing Luke was a pilot, it gave him time to recover. It turned out, though, that having someone to go _with_ had been important. 

He missed Dak. 

Luke shook his head, pulling his hands out of his pockets. Dak hadn't wanted him to be alone. This was a good thing. 

"Luke?" a voice hesitantly asked from behind him. 

Luke turned, finding a man with a goatee and grey-streaked brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Luke didn't recognize him. "That's me." 

The man broke into an easy smile. "I'm Kanan. Ezra mentioned you'd be visiting us tonight. Let me show you in."

Ah, that made sense. Kanan Jarrus, Ezra's overinvolved choir director. Well he didn't look like he was about to break out the interrogation pokers. Or deliver a shovel talk. 

Luke let himself be ushered into the practice room. Most of the choir was already there, including Ezra, who brightened noticeably when he caught Luke's eye, giving a cheerful wave. 

"Go ahead and sit over here," Kanan gestured, dragging Luke to nearly the front of the room. Luke, who had planned on skulking near the back, resigned himself to being noticeable. 

Luke wasn't even certain why he wanted to hide. He had always thought of himself as a fairly gregarious person. He got along with other people, pretty easily. He was one of the experienced pilots who helped the newbies get a hang of things, he actually knewhis neighbors, he and Dak had always— 

That was the problem, Luke realized, as the choir started their warmup vocal exercises. He had built those things with Dak. This was one of the first things that he had done that Dak had never been a part of. Dak had loved singing, he'd turn the radio on during lazy mornings and croon along as he made breakfast. It felt wrong, doing this without him.

Luke chewed on his inner cheek as he watched Ezra, who threw Luke a surreptitious wink when he caught Luke's eye. Luke smiled despite his sudden melancholy. Ezra was good at jostling him out of his more bleak moods. 

Dak would never have want Luke to keep his life confined to the ground they had tread together. Dak would have gently thwacked the back of Luke's head and informed him that the thought was very sweet, but a terrible way to live. 

Kanan ended the vocal exercises, and with a tap against his music stand signaled the start of the first song. 

A single woman's voice started the song, high and clear. Another voice joined her, then a handful more, until the music swelled and the full strength of the choir gathered. Luke closed his eyes and let the building harmony roll over him. 

It was a beautiful sound. Luke was glad he was there to hear it. 

Kanan rolled through different songs, tweaking, adjusting, ruling the practice with affectionate harassment and quick quips. The choir was amature, but very good, and clearly dedicated. Ezra had explained that it was a volunteer choir, and all of their profits from their performances and appearances were donated to various local charities. 

The people arrayed in front of Luke represented New York at its diverse finest: skin from arctic pale to equatorial dark, a pair of high-schoolers sang peeking at the sheet music of a octogenarian, and a woman was perched in a wheelchair behind a music stand perfectly raised to be readable while sitting. They worked well together, and the music they made…it was joyous, Luke decided. 

Luke's eyes settled on Ezra again. Ezra was joyous too. So patient with Luke's hesitant stumbling into intimacy again. He probably deserved better than what Luke had given him so far. 

While Kanan coached the group through a tricky harmony, Luke fished his notebook out of his back pocket, and scribbled a quick note.

As the rehearsal ended, and Ezra came over, Luke surreptitiously passed the note over during their quick hug of greeting. Ezra raised an eyebrow, but seemed happy to keep the ruse going, formally introducing Luke to a few of the choir members.

"Are you interested in joining?" the octogenarian, introduced as Jocosta, asked. 

"I might be," Luke answered, a statement he hadn't realized was true until he said it. "It seems like a good group of people." 

Jocasta nodded. "It is."

"Really?" Ezra asked, once they were out of earshot. 

Luke shrugged. "Maybe? My mom forced me into enough piano lessons that I can sightread pretty well, and once upon a time I had a passable tenor. And clearly they can work with the airline schedule." Luke gestured at Ezra.

"Did I hear you can sightread?" Kanan cut into their conversation. "You're in."

Luke blinked. "Ah…" 

"No, you're right, I should probably make sure you can actually do it." Kanan spun, grabbed a page of sheet music, and shoved it at Luke. "Sing." 

Ezra gave a delighted laugh. Luke, unable to help his own lopsided smile, cleared his throat and stared at the music. "You heard the part where I was rusty, right?" 

Kanan made an impatient gesture at the music sheet. Luke didn't know the song, but the page was clear enough, and—after a quick glance around to ensure that his audience really was limited to himself, Ezra, and Kanan—he let himself hesitantly feel out the melody. 

"Yep," Kanan said after about three lines, "You're in. You've got good basics, we can train the rest. Ezra will give you our rehearsal schedule. Welcome to the choir!" Kanan shook his hand quickly, before getting called by another member's question. 

Ezra grinned, clearly delighted. "For the record, I did not lure you here to suck you into the choir." 

"Uh huh." Luke gave Ezra an affectionate smile. "I see your game."

"No game!" Ezra protested. "Though, if there was a game, clearly I'd be winning," he said as he dug in his pocket and passed the note Luke had handed him back to Luke. 

It still bore the same message.

> Hey, I was thinking it might be fun to hold hands behind the gym after school.
> 
> Will you be my boyfriend?
> 
> Y/N

Now, though, the Y was circled, and underlined three times. And, at the bottom, a new question was added, "Can we share juice boxes, too?"

Luke smiled over at Ezra. "I think I can be convinced," he said gravely.

"Good, good," Ezra responded with identical seriousness. Then, in a deliberate gesture, he reached down and twined his fingers with Luke's. "Come on, there's a couple more people I want to introduce you to. I want them to meet my _boyfriend,_" he said, placing deliberate emphasis on the last word. 

Luke smiled, and let Ezra tug him along.

* * *

Bodhi froze, casting a suspicious glance at the phone currently lodged carelessly between his cheek and his shoulder. He set down the zester he was currently menacing a lemon with. He straightened, grabbing the phone and holding it carefully next to his ear. "Sorry, I think I might have heard that wrong, what was that again?" 

Luke's chuckle was warm. "I was wondering if you were going to catch that. I said, I won't be able to join you for the concert in the park, because I'm going out to dinner with my _boyfriend._" 

"Huh," Bodhi said, feeling something uneasy prickle down his neck. 

"No need to sound so enthused," Luke said dryly. "Just a sec." 

Bodhi heard the muffled noises of Luke in an airport, the regular background hum of their lives. He picked up the lemon and tossed it in the air, contemplative as he watched its arc. 

"Alright, back with you." 

"It just surprised me," Bodhi said, having taken the pause to think through his reaction. "Felt fast." 

"It's been months," Luke said, gently chiding. "I have a different tolerance for commitment than you do." 

"Hey, I'm happy with the way I do things," Bodhi replied automatically. He paused for a second, before asking the real question. "Are you?"

"I—" Luke cut off. "I think so. My measuring stick for happy is sort of…off, you know? But I'm happier now than I was a few months ago. I'll take it." 

Bodhi's fingers tightened around the lemon, wishing he didn't hear the wistfulness in Luke's voice. Luke deserved unvarnished joy. Bodhi cleared his throat. "Well, I will miss you at the concert, but I hope you have a lovely time with your…your…" 

"You can say it." There was laughter in Luke's voice as he spoke. 

"Your booooy—" Bodhi drew the word out comedically, mostly just to hear Luke laugh. "Nope, it's too strange, I'm gonna have to practice for a bit." 

Luke did laugh, bright and delighted. "You do that." He paused, his voice lowered slightly when he continued, "Oh, before I forget. Have you seen Wedge's sex dungeon?" 

Bodhi dropped the lemon. "_What?_" 

"Sex dungeon," Luke said again, clearly, so it wasn't that Bodhi had just gone temporarily deaf or something. "You should get him to show it to you, if you haven't seen it." 

"No! I've been to his place. If he had a sex dungeon I would know—" 

"It's hidden." 

"You're fucking with me." 

"I'm not." Luke paused. "Well, no, I am, but I'm also telling the truth."

Bodhi tucked the phone even closer next to his ear, nearly curling his body around it. "Tell me everything." 

"Ooop. Time for crew briefing." 

"No!" Bodhi hissed. 

"It's been good talking to you—"

"Luke Skywalker you bastard tell me everything!" 

"—gotta go! Take care!" 

And then the line clicked off. Bodhi set the phone down and stared at it in dismay, his hands on his hips. 

No.

There was _no way_. 

Bodhi and Wedge had been fucking periodically for well over six months. Bodhi was well qualified at this stage to know the man was not even remotely kink-experienced. Right? _Right??_ A _sex dungeon_ would have come up. 

Then again, Bodhi thought, finally absently bending to pick the much-abused lemon up again, Wedge also did stoic very well. Unnervingly well. 

But he couldn't be hiding—_no way_. 

Bodhi gave a frustrated huff, admitted Luke had gotten to him, and picked up the phone. After firing off a quick text to Luke, informing him that he was a diabolical monster, Bodhi switched over to Wedge's contact. 
    
    
      So, what's this I hear about a sex dungeon?
    

Bodhi glared at his phone impatiently, grumbling as it didn't give him an immediate response. Eventually he picked up the lemon and the zester again, and dropped them both about fifty seconds later when his phone buzzed. 
    
    
      lol
    

Bodhi groaned. 
    
    
    I'm going to need MORE RESPONSE THAN THAT
    
    Come on over. I'll show you.
    
    IT'S REAL???

Bodhi paced back and forth, his phone in his hands. When Wedge didn't answer, Bodhi finally gave up and paced over to his computer. After a few minutes of angry research (with a still-quiet phone, which was infuriating) Bodhi grabbed for his phone again. 
    
    
    Fine. I can pick up an SFO in...two weeks.
    
    great
    
    Wedge Antilles, you are doing this on fucking purpose, it's not like I don't KNOW that you're capable of better text etiquitte than this
    
    get me the dates, I'll keep it open

"Bastards, the both of them," Bodhi hissed out loud. "Fine." 
    
    
    Should I bring anything?
    
    lotion

Bodhi glared at his phone. "He wants me to ask," he notified the air around him. "He wants me to ask, so I _won't_." 

Bodhi resolutely put the phone back on the counter, picked up the lemon and the zester again, and spent the rest of the evening trying not to wonder what the lotion was for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, "menacing a lemon" is one of my favorite collections of words in this whole dang fic. I wonder what he's making. Yes, I realize I'm the author, but I never figured that one out. I welcome suggestions :P


	21. Sex Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prickling with impatient interest, Bodhi edged closer, heart thrumming as the gate swung open to reveal—

"This doesn't seem very sex-dungeony," Bodhi said dubiously, as Wedge led him _up_ the stairwell in the back of his condo building. "Dungeons are usually down. I can't help but notice we're heading in the opposite direction." 

Wedge, who was wearing a polo shirt and carrying two jars of what looked like lemonade—also not very sex dungeony, in Bodhi's opinion—tossed a wry grin over his shoulder. "I'm so grateful that you, an experienced airline pilot, are able to make that distinction. It's an important one in our line of work." 

Bodhi stuck out his tongue at Wedge. Wedge reached the small door that presumably lead to the roof. He opened it with his elbow, revealing a bright blue early-June sky. It was gorgeous, but again, totally lacking in the expected aesthetic. 

Wedge propped the door open with his toes, gestured Bodhi through, then lead Bodhi over to a corner of the roof that was fenced-off. The fence was simple chain-link with plastic privacy slats; only out of place because it was on a roof. 

Bodhi tilted his head, regarding it. Secret stash of sex gear on the condo roof? If that's what was waiting behind the fence, then he had misjudged Wedge entirely. He felt some trepidation, as Wedge handed off one of the lemonade glasses and fished a key out of his pocket, slotting it into the padlock on the gate. 

The trepidation was mixed with a heavy dose of anticipation, if Bodhi was being honest. He'd always taken a special joy in finding the key that unlocked his various lovers' excitement. Everyone was such a delicious puzzle, and Wedge was the best he'd ever tried to solve. Wedge made him curious, and that curiosity was addicting.

Wedge unhooked the padlock and used his foot to nudge Bodhi over closer to the opening of the gate. Prickling with impatient interest, Bodhi edged closer, heart thrumming as the gate swung open to reveal— 

Bodhi's breath caught in his throat. 

Paradise. 

Huge tropical plants with broad leaves and bright flowers were showey centerpieces. Twining vines ran along the fence, so thick the fence was barely visible from this side. Two of the three walls were vines, and as Bodhi idly shoved his way past a smirking Wedge, he could see that the other wall was masked with high-growing bamboo. Bodhi swallowed, swinging around in a slow, baffled circle.

Each new angle had a new delight. The fourth edge to the garden butted up against the condo's edge, and a planter full of complicated-looking succulents studded the scene, a riot of pinks and greens and purples. There was a shaded area, with a fountain that ran over a wall of moss. Next to it, a couple of lounge chairs were set up, with a small table between them. 

Bodhi's rotation stopped, and he fixed his gaze back on Wedge, who was looking at him with a smirk. "Welcome to the dungeon," he said, gesturing around. 

Bodhi couldn't read it on Wedge's face, but there was something in his gesture that was tentative, nervous. Like he was giving a gift, Bodhi realized with sudden insight, and he wasn't entirely sure if the other person would like it. 

"It's paradise," Bodhi said simply, choosing not to hide behind bluster. 

The way Wedge's smile bloomed into something startled and delighted let Bodhi know he had made the right call. He tugged Wedge over to him, and pulled him into a kiss. 

"So what's the lotion for?" Bodhi asked when they separated. "Or was that just to drive me mad with wondering?" 

Wedge chuckled, nudging Bodhi along to one of the lounge chairs. "Did it?" 

"Yes," Bodhi grumbled. "You're very mean." 

Wedge gave Bodhi a delighted smile. Bodhi stretched out, and instead of settling into the other chair, he sat down at the edge of Bodhi's. He took a sip of his lemonade and set it down on the table. "I was also thinking I could give you a massage." 

Bodhi took his own sip, making a show of considering. "I'm willing to reconsider the mean thing." 

"That's a relief," Wedge deadpanned, as he reached down between his legs and fiddled with the chair. Bodhi gave a yelp as the back of the lounge chair suddenly dropped flat under him. He barely managed to keep his lemonade upright. 

Bodhi glared at Wedge, who plucked the drink out of his hands and settled it on the little table. "Flip," he ordered, tapping at Bodhi's shoulder. "And take your shirt off." 

Bodhi hooked his fingers under the hem of his shirt. He had gone with the classic t-shirt and jeans, opting to pack his more sex-dungeon appropriate wear. Just as well. Leather straps would have been hard to get off. Bodhi cast a glance over at the fence. "Any of your neighbors going to drop in on us?" 

Wedge snorted. "You're fussing about modesty now?" He shook his head. "No, I don't have any neighbors that would just walk in. You're safe." 

"Fantastic," Bodhi said, and stripped off his shirt. He paused, flashed Wedge a wide, toothy grin, and then unbuttoned his jeans and stripped those off too, catching his underwear with them. He enjoyed Wedge's strangled noises as he laid back down on the lounge chair, relishing the feeling of being naked in the shade on a warm day.

"I wasn't thinking _that kind of a massage._" Wedge sounded faintly horrified. 

Well good, he deserved it, after the last couple weeks he and Luke had put Bodhi through. Bodhi wiggled, settling down into the lounge chair again, belly-down. "Hope springs eternal. Besides, with or without a happy ending, I love a good leg massage. This just gives you easier access." 

"Easier access for a lot of things," Wedge muttered, sounding more annoyed than turned on. 

"Mmm," Bodhi made a soft noise of appreciation. "I'd be down." He wiggled again, making sure his ass was on display. 

Wedge huffed out a laugh. "Incorrigible." 

"That's me." 

Wedge had talented hands. Even hobbled, he had given an amazing foot rub, and now with both hands free to work he was almost unfairly gifted. The strength of climber's hands, the deft touch of pilot's hands, rolled together in one perfect package. He spent a long time along Bodhi's shoulders and back, unravelling the knots that came with a longhaul flight. Bodhi half-expected that to be the end of it, but to his delight, Wedge didn't hesitate before sliding lower, working Bodhi's ass then down to his upper thigh. 

Bodhi didn't try to stifle his happy noises, letting soft moans and appreciative grunts escape him as Wedge worked his way along his legs. Bodhi's head was pillowed on his folded arms, he lazily watched the water flow over the moss wall. He took a deep, slow breath and could _taste_ the green in the air. 

He hadn't been waxing eloquent, earlier, when he had told Wedge this was paradise. It was alarmingly close to his own idea of perfection. And Wedge had made this space? It was, in its own way, as suprising as a sex dungeon would have been. Bodhi could suddenly understand why Wedge's apartment was so spare in its decoration. _This_ was where Wedge went when he wanted beauty.

Bodhi's eyes went heavy, his body struggling to stay awake after the flight over. The warmth and the relaxation proved to be too compelling a cocktail to fight for long, and Bodhi drifted, twitching awake again suddenly when he realized he had gone. 

"It's okay," Wedge's hands were down working on one of his feet, and one slid up Bodhi's calf, patting it twice in a reassuring manner. "I don't mind if you nap." 

"Seems ungrateful. You, you're—" A yawn took over Bodhi then, interrupting his sentence. He shook his head, and tried again. "You're going to all the effort." 

"It's a compliment," Wedge said, squeezing the calf slightly before going back to the foot. "You're relaxed. Besides…" Wedge trailed off. 

Bodhi pulled his foot out of Wedge's hand and flipped around. He was sidetracked momentarily by the grid of the lounge chair all patterned down his naked front. He gave a little chuckle, poking at the pattern, before grinning over at Wedge. 

Wedge shook his head and smiled back. He captured Bodhi's foot again, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "I owe you," he said softly. 

Bodhi tilted his head. "You've well paid me back for the little shoulder massage I gave you in Germany." He smiled, remembering. That had been a nice get-together, a little over a month ago. Bodhi had got Wedge into a hot tub, and used the chance to finally get a look at the surgery scar on Wedge's shoulder, so tiny compared to the pain it had caused. Wedge had started to go all prickly when Bodhi had traced his thumb over the mark, and Bodhi thought he had been fairly graceful in transforming it into a shoulder rub. 

It had turned into makeouts fairly quickly, though, and in a rare moment of prudence, Bodhi had suggested they retreat back to the hotel room before they got cited for public indecency. It certainly didn't warrant the full luxury treatment he was getting now. 

Wedge shook his head. "That was not a massage, that was a thinly veiled excuse to grope me." 

Bodhi snapped his fingers. "You're learning my secrets." 

"For the last time you were here," Wedge continued, a little twitch in his neck the only betrayal that these words were difficult. "You really helped. Thank you." 

"Oh!" Bodhi said, shaking his head. "That was...I mean. You're welcome." Bodhi looked around. "So let me get this straight, you decide you want to spoil me, and so you grab Luke, make him madden me until I come visit you?"

Wedge laughed. "No, no. That was Luke's idea." 

"He's such a jerk. Nobody believes me, but he is." 

Wedge nodded. "It's true." He got a slightly faraway smile on his face, as he continued, "Dak and Luke visited here, fairly often. They both loved the garden, but Dak was allergic. He came up here once, in spring, everything was flowering, and he just could not stop sneezing." He chuckled at the memory. 

Bodhi looked around, imagining Luke and Dak in the space. It was easy to do so, and again, he felt that sense of a puzzle resolving, one more thing about both Luke and Wedge making a little more sense. 

"And Luke was chiding Dak for forgetting his allergy medication, and Dak said…" Wedge paused, licking his lips. "I forget exactly, but it was something like, 'Don't blame me, blame the plants! Blame the damn plant sex dungeon Wedge has set up out here.' The name stuck." 

Bodhi laughed, amused and heartsick at the same time. "It all makes sense now." After a moment, he added, "I miss him."

"I do too," Wedge said, a distant look on his face. 

Bodhi hadn't really meant to say that. He squirmed a little, for the first time regretting his decision to strip down. It suddenly felt inappropriate. He tugged his legs back towards himself, not quite giving into the urge to curl himself into a fetal position, instead just resting his arms on top of his bent knees. 

"Sorry," Wedge said. "Didn't mean to bring the mood down." 

Bodhi shook his head. "No, it's…it's good." He took a breath, trying to find his flippant tone again. "I just feel a little underdressed for grief. Naked times are supposed to be happy times, darling." 

Wedge gave a crooked smile, and reached down. He handed Bodhi back his pants. 

Bodhi reached forward and took them. He paused, holding them and looking at Wedge. "It wouldn't take too much to get me back in the mood, you know. If you wanted to take advantage of the…" 

Wedge made a negating gesture with his hands. "Later, maybe." 

Bodhi got his clothes back on, then nudged Wedge until he got the idea and laid down, then curled into his side on the same lounge chair. "I can see why Dak was willing to put up with the sneezing," Bodhi said, looking out over the garden. "It really is beautiful." 

He heard Wedge's content little hum in his chest. "So you're not disappointed?" 

Bodhi laughed, tucking his face against Wedge's shirt. "No. This is a surprise, don't get me wrong, but an actual sex dungeon just made _no sense_ for you. I mean," Bodhi untucked himself, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at Wedge, "I feel like any guy that owns a non-floral sex dungeon would at least have an opinion on ice play, you know?" 

Wedge flushed and looked away. Bodhi settled back down next to him. "Honest question, babe. That blowjob, kinkiest thing you've ever done?" 

Wedge gave a long sigh, and just as Bodhi had given up on an answer, he said, "Probably. Gave someone head in a dark corner of a club, once, back when I was young and dumb. Think that's the only thing that comes close." 

"Oooh, a little bit of public fun. That counts. Did you enjoy it?"

Wedge shifted. "Well, the guy wound up being a waste of time. So it's not the best memory." 

Bodhi could read Wedge well enough to know when to drop it. He started casting around for the next conversation topic.

Wedge, to Bodhi's surprise, continued, "But the public part was...a little exciting. I can see why it works for some people."

"It really is thrilling, isn't it?" Bodhi agreed. 

Wedge huffed a little laugh. "You don't need to indulge me. I know I'm boring." 

Bodhi stiffened in surprise, and pushed up off the lounge chair again. "Farthest thing from!" Bodhi protested. He gestured angrily around the garden to prove his point. "You're a delight." 

"Yeah, exactly," Wedge raised an eyebrow. "Distinct lack of handcuffs or…swings…or whatever." 

Bodhi paused, fighting down his instinct to laugh and point out that Wedge really had no idea what went on in a sex dungeon, did he? Not helpful for this particular conversation. Later. He could break that one out later. 

For now, he tried for earnest. "I don't need all that," Bodhi said. "I'm pretty much an omnivore when it comes to sex. I'll try anything once, and most of the time, I enjoy it. But I don't…" Bodhi shook his head, words failing him. The way he looked at things felt so obvious and natural to him, and it was always so frustrating, the way nobody else seemed to see the world the same way. 

"So what do you like?" Wedge asked. 

Even though Wedge had said it with a defensive note in his voice, it was still the question Bodhi needed to push through and actually give an answer that was useful. "I like people. I like connecting with them, I like figuring out what makes them excited, and then being the person that gives it to them. If that means kink, then we try kink, but it's certainly not needed." 

Wedge gave a slow nod. "I can see that." He fixed Bodhi with a suddenly intent look, "So what's the trick for me?" 

Bodhi gave a grin, and answered honestly. "I have no idea. Figuring it out as I go. How am I doing so far?" 

Wedge smiled, and for a moment Bodhi saw a little hint of sadness in the curve of Wedge's lips. "Perfectly," Wedge answered softly, reaching up to cup Bodhi's cheek. 

Bodhi leaned down and kissed Wedge, then. The moment was perfect for it, and Wedge leaned up enthusiastically into the kiss. 

Ah, he probably was imagining the sadness. Wedge was clearly into this. Anxiety brain, acting up again, maybe. He'd need to keep an eye on that. 

But for the moment, it was easy enough to push to the side, to sink into the joy of kissing Wedge in paradise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We find out what's in the Sex Dungeon! 
> 
> I'm jealous of the gardening skill I gave Wedge, honestly. His garden is a fantasy of mine. Particularly the moss waterfall. I grew up in the desert, so something like that would be terribly impractical, but I love them whenever I see them :)


	22. Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge is fucked. And not in the usual fun way that Bodhi's presence would normally indicate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep hoping to get back to posting around Wednesday, and I keep...not doing that. Ooops. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm still here, have another chapter! 
> 
> _Chapter specific content warning: mentions of homophobia, racism, and violations of passenger's rights on aircraft. None perpetrated by our main characters._

Wedge settled back on the couch and pulled Bodhi down on top of him. After some shifting, he got Bodhi settled between his legs, with Bodhi's head resting against Wedge's chest. Wedge turned on the TV and flipped through channels, not so much looking for something to watch, but as an excuse to keep Bodhi close to him. 

Wedge was, bluntly, fucked. And not in the usual fun way that Bodhi's presence would indicate. 

Bodhi was temporary. An excuse for Wedge to try something casual. Except, apparently, Wedge was incapable of casual. All his stern talks with himself, all his perfect awareness of the situation hadn't helped _at all_. He wanted to wrap himself around Bodhi and never stop, and that was not a part of their arrangement.

Wedge stopped on a news station. Good enough. He immediately stopped paying attention to it, and instead focused on the way Bodhi's chest rose and fell under his palm. It seemed more important than any droning announcer. The only thing in the world Wedge could possibly think was more important was the way Bodhi's hair ticked his nose when he nuzzled the top of Bodhi's head. 

Bodhi made a happy, content noise, and that was enough of an assent that Wedge had no problems losing himself in the cuddle. If he was careful, he could still make this surge of feeling mutually beneficial. Bodhi enjoyed touch, enjoyed cuddling. He didn't need to know all the extra emotions going along with. Wedge tucked his hand up under Bodhi's shirt, and let his blunt nails trail lightly over the skin he found there. 

The first sign Wedge had that something was wrong was Bodhi's chest jumping under his hand. Bodhi gasped a tight-choked hitch of air and Wedge flattened his palm against Bodhi's sternum, in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. Underneath it he could feel the rabbit-fast panic of Bodhi's heart, drumming a frantic staccato in his chest. 

"Hey, are you—" 

"Can we turn that off?" Bodhi asked, his words coming out too-fast and too-tight. 

Wedge grabbed for the remote with his right hand, leaving his left firmly pressed against Bodhi's chest. He wasn't sure the gesture was helping, but he hoped it was reassuring. 'I'm here,' he wanted to say. 

Turning his attention back to the television as he tried to find the right button, he heard the news announcer drone, "Imperial Airlines was cited for ignoring passenger rights when technical issues lead to a six-hour tarmac delay. Despite the lengthy delay, the airline refused to allow passengers off the plane. This is the third such violation in the last two yea—"

The TV blinked black. 

Under his palm, Wedge felt Bodhi breathe, but this time deeper, more deliberate. 

"Thanks," Bodhi said softly. 

"That's your old airline, right?" 

Wedge regretted the words as soon as he said them. He could feel the way Bodhi went rigid against his chest. Bodhi never talked about the airline he flew for before he joined Rogue Air. Wedge only knew because Luke had mentioned it. And if gregarious, chatty Bodhi hadn't seemed fit to mention a major part of his early piloting life, _maybe there was a damn good reason for that, huh Wedge?_

"Yes," Bodhi answered, before Wedge could tell him he didn't need to say anything. "I hate them." 

"Ah…" It was the single most bluntly negative thing Wedge had ever heard Bodhi say, and Wedge had no idea how to respond. 

Bodhi laughed, a little forced, and wiggled in Wedge's hold. Wedge relaxed his grip, slightly, and felt Bodhi relax against him in turn. "Sorry," Bodhi said, his voice light and just a little rueful. "I get a little melodramatic when it comes to them." 

"Didn't feel like melodrama," Wedge said, tracing his thumb back and forth across Bodhi's sternum. If Bodhi didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to talk about it, but Wedge was uncomfortable at the way he made light of it.

Bodhi sighed. "Yeah, wrong word." He continued, more earnest this time, "Flying with them was fucking horrible. They were always pulling this shit. Not surprised to see it continue." 

"Must have been bad, that was a strong reaction." Wedge coughed, not sure how to talk about this gracefully, but knowing that he wanted to. "Anxiety?" 

Bodhi's hand reached up, and covered Wedge's, the soft fabric of Bodhi's shirt between Bodhi's palm and the back of Wedge's hand. "Yep. Pretty much their fault that I have it in the first place. By the time I finished my flight training I had pretty much worn out my welcome at my aunt's house. I needed to make the job work or I'd be out on the street." Bodhi paused, rolling his head so he could look at Wedge. "I don't usually talk about the tragic backstory shit. I know it brings the mood down." 

Wedge pressed down slightly with his palm. It was as close as he could get to a hug, considering they were already cuddling. "If you don't want to talk, that's fine. But I…I'm interested." 

Bodhi gave a soft hum. "There's not much to tell, really. They fucked with my head and fucked with my head until I was a barely functional ball of nerves." 

"Hard to imagine." 

Bodhi snorted. "Ask Luke. He was the first person to really know me at Rogue. I was a mess." Bodhi's voice went softer. "I owe him so much. He befriended me, took me home to Dak. Nearly had a heart attack when I realized he was gay." 

"You…?" Wedge trailed off, confusion in his voice as he tried to imagine a world where Bodhi would be surprised by someone else's preferences. "You thought he was straight?" 

Bodhi shook his head, his cheek rocking against Wedge's chest. "Not Luke specifically. Just...the world. My family, my peers, the media, you know how it goes. He was literally the first out queer person I'd ever known." Bodhi paused. "Okay, that I was aware that I knew. I technically met Cassian and Jyn first, but since they're married to each other, I didn't figure they were bi for a minute." 

"I can't imagine you closeted," Wedge said. "You're…" 

Inspirational. That was probably the word. Bodhi lived his life with so much courage, and Wedge had never taken the time to figure out how he had built it. 

"Queer as a football bat, I know. It's deliberate, _darling_." Bodhi lilted the last word, clearly putting on a persona. 

Wedge could hear the performance now that he knew what Bodhi sounded like unadorned. It wasn't a false note, so much as a verbal fashion choice. A way of presentation. "You're happier being obvious?" 

"I am. I know it's not for everyone," Bodhi patted Wedge's hand.

As much as Wedge would like to protest, he knew he leaned away from any deliberate flags to signal his sexuality. Being straight-passing just made life easier, unfortunately. "But it's important to you." 

"It is," Bodhi said simply. He sighed and wiggled a little closer to Wedge. "Imp Air really did a number on me. I graduated flight school with fucking good marks, but they flat-out called me a diversity hire and made it clear I was a barely-tolerated imposition." 

Wedge nearly growled at that, hating the injustice. 

Bodhi squeezed his hand. "They found the brown distasteful enough. They never would have tolerated the queer. I was closeted as fuck, back then. So yeah, the idea that Luke was out at an airline was…revolutionary. I accidentally outed myself as bi to the two of them that first night. Begged them not to tell anyone." Bodhi shook his head. "I was so fucking scared." 

A hot surge of rage rolled over Wedge, a useless feeling, meant for people and times years in the past. But it was still _wrong_ and Wedge wished there was something, anything, he could do to soothe a wound inflicted decades ago. He held Bodhi tighter. 

Bodhi gave a contented sigh, and nuzzled his face against Wedge's chest. "I worked it out," he continued, his tone lighter. "Spent a lot of time watching Luke, watching how Rogue treated Luke. Got myself a good therapist. Realized how much of the crap I was dealing with was other people's internalized rubbish. And then…" 

Bodhi twisted, and they got tangled for a moment, until Wedge worked his arm back out of Bodhi's shirt. Bodhi turned until he was on his knees on the couch, facing Wedge. He laid a hand on either of Wedge's thighs, and gave him an intent look. "I realized that someone was always going to hate me. No matter how good I was, no matter what I did. So, I decided to be the me that I loved, and fuck the rest."

_I love you.___

_ __ _

The words screamed their way through Wedge's brain, desperate to escape on his tongue. He wanted to declare it, to wrap Bodhi up in his arms and promise forever and always. He loved Bodhi with the saccharine romanticism that he had always thought was a lie companies told to sell products. He loved Bodhi in a way that made roses make sense. 

_ __ _

And it was completely useless. Because this man that Wedge had managed to fall in love with had overcome his past to love the world. It was an essential part of who he was, that he loved _people_ not _a person_. Bodhi didn't possess, and he didn't want to be possessed. 

_ __ _

If Wedge tried to claim him it would serve no purpose, other than showing just how poorly he had been listening, as Bodhi shared his heart. 

_ __ _

Words would betray him, so Wedge traded on actions instead, reaching up and cupping a hand around the back of Bodhi's head, and pulling him down for a kiss. He tried to pour into the kiss all the love and pride and approval that were trapped uselessly inside him. 

_ __ _

Whether or not Bodhi heard it, Wedge couldn't say, but Bodhi did kiss back. He slid forward and melded himself against Wedge again, one arm wrapping around the small of Wedge's back to hitch him closer, the other cradled along Wedge's jaw, urging Wedge deeper. 

_ __ _

They kissed until Bodhi broke away, leaning his forehead against Wedge's and whispering, "I made it. I'm here." 

_ __ _

"You did," Wedge responded, using his grip to press their foreheads together even tighter. "You're here, and you're _perfect._" 

_ __ _

Wedge meant it, body and soul. Even though Bodhi would break his heart, sooner or later, Wedge would sooner die than ask him to be anything other than exactly who he was. 

_ __ _

Bodhi groaned at the words, leaning in to capture Wedge's mouth again, breaking away only to say, "I want you to fuck me." He moved in again, the kiss was rougher—teeth against Wedge's lower lip. "Remind me I'm here." 

_ __ _

It was Wedge's turn to groan, a short, punched-out noise, as he grabbed at Bodhi's thighs and moved them until Bodhi was straddling Wedge. Wedge braced his hand against Bodhi's ass and Bodhi rutted into him, the hard length of his cock sliding along Wedge's groin. 

_ __ _

"Hang on," Wedge ordered, and _stood_, picking Bodhi up with him as he moved. The noise Bodhi made wasn't so much surprise as sheer want, and he wrapped himself securely around Wedge as Wedge took them both to his bedroom. 

_ __ _

"Any requests?" Wedge asked, a little breathlessly, as he laid Bodhi down on his bed. 

_ __ _

Bodhi propped himself up on his elbows, looking at Wedge with lust-darkened eyes. "Whatever you want." 

_ __ _

Wedge prowled forward, laying himself out over Bodhi, one thigh between Bodhi's legs, a palm on Bodhi's chest pushing Bodhi back down onto the bed. "No," Wedge said, running his nose along the side of Bodhi's neck. "You're here, this is about what you want." Wedge took Bodhi's ear between his lips and sucked, enjoying the noises he pulled from Bodhi. 

_ __ _

"Ah!" Bodhi squirmed under Wedge. "Don't make me—oh—talk, Wedge, just—" Bodhi's arms got free enough to reach up and tangle in Wedge's hair, pulling Wedge down for an insistent kiss. 

_ __ _

Wedge gave him the kiss then took it deeper, revelling in the taste of Bodhi, in the feel of the way he moved. "Don't worry," Wedge murmured as they broke the kiss, so close that his lips still brushed against Bodhi's. "You don't have to talk. I know what you like." 

_ __ _

Bodhi enjoyed so many things, it was easy for him to shape himself to people, to situations. And yet, Wedge had seen him enough, been with him enough, that even if Bodhi had never put it into words, Wedge knew what Bodhi liked. 

_ __ _

From Paris, Wedge remembered that Bodhi loved to kiss newly revealed skin, and Wedge laid a row of kisses up Bodhi's belly and down Bodhi's thighs as he stripped Bodhi bare again. From one winter night in Bodhi's well-heated New York apartment, Wedge knew that Bodhi found being naked while Wedge was clothed thrilling. Wedge left his own jeans on and wrapped himself around Bodhi, kissing and grinding against Bodhi's sensitive skin. 

_ __ _

They made out until Bodhi grew impatient, Wedge smiling against Bodhi's cheek when Bodhi finally grabbed Wedge's fly and forced his jeans open. Wedge acquiesced to Bodhi's impatience, getting naked as well before returning to the bed, wrapping Bodhi's legs around his waist and pressing Bodhi back toward the bed. From their time in the ski lodge, Wedge remembered how much Bodhi loved a good show of athleticism, and so Wedge slid one hand up between Bodhi's shoulderblades and rolled them over, leaving Bodhi on top. 

_ __ _

Bodhi gave a shocked gasp, a delighted laugh, then leaned forward and kissed Wedge again. 

_ __ _

"Get a condom on me," Wedge ordered in a tone of voice he had learned Bodhi loved between the sheets of a hotel bed in São Paulo, "then slick me up. Yourself, too, if you need it." 

_ __ _

Bodhi bit Wedge's lower lip again, laid another sharp kiss against Wedge's neck, then did as he was told. 

_ __ _

It was in Frankfurt that Bodhi had wiggled impatiently on Wedge's fingers and explained that, honestly, while a good fingering was nice, with enough lube he really didn't need any other preparation. So when Bodhi pulled back with an expectant raise of his eyebrows, Wedge felt absolutely no compunction about flipping him over again and fucking into him with one long stroke. 

_ __ _

Bodhi gave a pleased moan, let his head fall back against the bed. Wedge moved at a deliberate pace, hips moving in a firm, steady rhythm. He nuzzled and stroked in all of Bodhi's sensitive spaces, learned in a romance around the world. He had first nibbled at Bodhi's ears in the Paris afternoon light, first made Bodhi gasp by tracing blunt nails down the outside of his ribs in New York, first learned the way Bodhi purred at being marked in Brazil. He used them, all the little patchwork ways he had learned to make Bodhi happy, and stitched them together to love him now. 

_ __ _

Sometimes Bodhi liked to stretch things out, to dance up to the edge and fall back, denying the crescendo. That didn't feel right for this moment, though, there was too much desperation in the way Bodhi grabbed and kissed. So Wedge fucked him steadily and laid pleasure after pleasure over his skin, until Bodhi gasped and came on Wedge's cock, and Wedge followed him into bliss after. 

_ __ _

"You're here," Wedge repeated, drawing Bodhi into his arms, relishing the way Bodhi shivered a little then cuddled closer. 

_ __ _

Bodhi _was_ here. He was here, and he was wonderful. He wouldn't always be. But that was a pain Wedge would deal with when it came. For now, he held Bodhi close, and loved him. 

_ __ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Wedge! He's caught a very bad case of the feelings. Whatever shall he do? 
> 
> ~
> 
> I'm going to talk a little bit about what's going on in the world right now, namely, COVID-19. If that's not something you want to think about right now, I offer instead [this classic video of a cat that just really loves flinging itself in a good box.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPzNl6NKAG0) Go watch and enjoy! 
> 
> ~
> 
> Okay, so, how's everyone doing? Part of the reason the chapter was late this week is because I do social services with older adults and...it's scary out there. As I think about all the stuff that's going on, I definitely think about my internet friends too, and I just wanted to reach out and say hey, this time is hard, and you're not alone even if you are physically isolated. 
> 
> If it would help to talk for a bit, feel free to chat in the comments, but also feel free to email me - my email is in my Ao3 profile. 
> 
> On the lighter side, if there's something that's helping keep your spirits up, I'd love to hear about it! I've been cooking more, doing some writing, and I pulled out an old knitting project for the first time in ten years and seriously considering doing...something with it. I put it away again, but hey, it's the thought that counts :D 
> 
> Anyway, love to you all, and my thoughts are with you.


	23. First Class Chats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi flies home and contemplates getting older.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For me, this is posted on Easter, barely, so happy Easter to those who celebrate, and happy Sunday to those who don't.

Bodhi sank back into the first class seat with a happy sigh. Bodhi's favorite way to fly was always going to be in the cockpit, but he had to admit, this chair had its charms. He could take naps, drink alcohol, and judge other people's flying—three of his favorite things. 

"So how do you get them to leave you an entire bottle of champagne?" the woman next to Bodhi asked, eyeing the cabin crew's latest gift. 

Bodhi grinned over at her. "I'm a co-worker, of a sort. Usually I'm the one flying these lovely machines. 

The woman's eyes went wide, she flicked her glance up to the closed cockpit door then back over to Bodhi. "You're a pilot?" 

Bodhi winked and nodded. "So the crew know me, and that means I sometimes get some very nice perks." Bodhi lifted the bottle, and glanced down at her nearly-empty glass. "No rule that says I can't share, though. Top you off?" 

"Oh please do," she held out her glass with a winning smile, and Bodhi leaned closer. 

As the plane chewed up miles, taking Bodhi back to New York, he learned that his neighbor's name was Lyssa. After the traditional ego-stroking chatter about what it was like being a pilot (which Bodhi had yet to grow tired of, and he didn't think he ever would), Lyssa started chatting about herself. She was flying into New York to do a summer internship before starting at NYU for a master's degree in chemical engineering. She'd probably wind up working at her dad's company—he owned a decent sized manufacturing plant, which explained why she was flying first class. 

"It's not what I wanted as a kid, you know, working at my dad's place. But it's kinda nice, the idea of a legacy, I guess." 

"Don't fit yourself to a mold just because others expect it of you," Bodhi advised her. "That's a fast way to spend a miserable life." 

"Yeah, I don't think that's what's happening, though." Lyssa waved her hand in a wishy-washy gestures. "It's traditional, yeah, but I also think I could be really happy there. I don't want to pass up on a good life because I'm too busy trying to be a rebel." 

"Smart woman," Bodhi said, and raised his glass to toast her. 

"Here's hoping," she clinked her glass against his. 

She was warm, cheerful company all the way home, needing only a little prompting to talk about her year interning with a Berlin publishing house, which had given her a decent grasp of German and a desire to escape publishing as soon as humanly possible. That lead to a fruitful hour of sharing favorite German cities and restaurants, and Bodhi giving her tips on good neighborhood eateries near NYU. 

As the plane landed, Bodhi did the gentlemanly thing and helped her get her luggage out of the overhead bin. As he passed her bag over to her, he realized she was giving him an up-and-down assessing look that he knew very well. 

"So," Lyssa said, fighting back a slightly nervous cough. "Was wondering if you were interested in going with me to that bar you were talking about that does all the variations on the Moscow Mule. Seemed like fun. And it's…it's only a couple blocks away from my hotel." 

Bodhi could read between the lines as well as anyone. Better than most, he'd say. Go out, have a nice drink, go back to the hotel. Make Lyssa feel amazing, spend some time feeling pretty good himself. Normally the sort of offer he'd take in a heartbeat. 

But right now…?

_ _'I know what you like.' Wedge's strong hands moving him, teeth against his neck and nails drawing bright lines down his side. Fucked, claimed, cherished._ _

Right now, learning a new body just felt like too much __work__. Bodhi pulled up short internally, as he realized that it was entirely possible that Wedge had managed to wear him out. Well, Wedge and the travel.

"Sorry," Bodhi said with a lopsided smile. "I think I just want to go home and get some sleep." 

Lyssa gave an agreeable shrug. "Probably smart. I'm going to go celebrate my last weekend of freedom before the internship starts." 

Bodhi smiled at her. "Good luck with that—both the weekend and what comes next." 

Lyssa tilted her head toward him. "I appreciate it." 

By the time Bodhi made it out of the taxi, he discovered he wasn't as tired as he thought he was, and on a whim, texted Luke to see if he was home. Luke was, and so Bodhi let himself through the front door and threw himself down on Luke's couch. 

"I miss your old couch," Bodhi said, wiggling to get comfortable. 

"I offered you the old couch when we got rid of it," Luke said, looking on in amusement from the side chair, petting Gup.

"It was hideous!" Bodhi protested. "Covered in big pink flowers. Didn't go with my apartment at all." 

Luke raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. That's why we got rid of it." 

"I'm not saying you made the wrong call. I'm just saying I miss it." Bodhi swallowed, looking at the ceiling. "Lot of memories on that couch."

Luke stood up slowly, and the massive carnivore slowly slid off his lap with nothing more than an undignified, 'Mrph.' Bodhi watched her stalk out of the room, tail twitching, as Luke wandered over and tapped Bodhi's shoulder. Bodhi curled his head and shoulders off the couch. Luke slid in, and Bodhi collapsed back on him. 

"Feeling nostalgic?" Luke asked, running his fingers through Bodhi's hair. 

Bodhi closed his eyes and remembered being twenty-six. He had been so scared that the freedom he suddenly had would evaporate if he made the wrong move. He remembered the first time Luke had done this, too, offered a casual love and comfort that had caught Bodhi entirely off-guard. Even when Bodhi had been comfortable nowhere else, Luke had always felt safe. "I guess so. Imp was in the news again. Got me thinking about how far I've come." 

Luke gave a disgusted grunt, as he gently ran his nails along the crown of Bodhi's head. "Glad you got out of there." 

"You and me both." Bodhi opened his eyes and smiled up at Luke. "I wouldn't have met you otherwise." 

Luke returned the smile, full of affection. "Yeah." 

Bodhi rolled his shoulders, shifting to get more comfortable. "I'm getting old, Luke," he mourned. 

"Oh are you?" Luke asked, amused. 

"Yes, there was this gorgeous woman on the plane today, I spent most of the flight with a little bit of a casual flirt going on—" 

"So a normal conversation for you." 

"—yeah, yeah, but here's the thing, at the end—" 

"She turned you down?" Luke grinned. 

"No!" Bodhi reached up to bat at Luke's jaw. "She invited me out for a drink and back to her hotel and _I_ turned __her_ _down_._" 

"The horror." Luke covered his mouth with a showly little gasp. 

"Yeah!" Bodhi lifted his hands off the couch in a gesture of dismay. "I got in the cab and realized I wanted to come hang out with you more than I wanted sex." Bodhi looked at Luke imploringly. "What's happened to me?"

Luke flattened his lips and looked down at Bodhi. "Yep. You're getting old." 

Bodhi groaned and curled on his side, tucking himself into a fetal position, his nose pressed against Luke's belly. He felt Luke's chuckle as much as he heard it, as Luke resumed stroking Bodhi's hair. "It's not so bad, is it?" Luke asked gently. "We've built a pretty good life, I think." 

Bodhi thought about his constructed family—friends and lovers near and far. Thought about all the places he was welcome: Luke's couch and Jyn and Cassian's table and Wedge's garden. Thought about the job he loved, the world he got to see, the home he got to come back to. Thought about Wedge whispering, "You're here," into his skin like a mantra. 

"We have," Bodhi agreed, feeling his eyes grow heavy. He yawned, and debated whether or not it would be rude to fall asleep on top of Luke. 

"Speaking of building a life…" Luke started again, a little hesitantly. "I'm going to have my first concert in a couple months. August." 

Bodhi huffed a single laugh. "I still can't believe you got suckered into joining a __choir_ _by your boyfriend." 

"It's good to have a reason to get out." Luke took a deep breath, and Bodhi felt Luke's leg muscles tighten underneath him. "I think I need those, these days." 

Bodhi unfolded himself, stretching back out so he could look Luke in the face. "Should I be doing more on the 'Drag Luke Skywalker Out of the House' front?" 

Luke shook his head. "I'm managing, I think. But…" Luke cleared his throat, cheeks a little red as he asked, "Would you want to come? To the concert? It's August fifth, and all the proceeds go to a youth shelter in Queens." 

Bodhi sighed. "Gotta say, going to a choral performance is not going to do a lot to soothe my feelings that I'm turning into an old man." 

"Please?" Luke asked. 

"I mean, I'm definitely going!" Bodhi said. "One hundred percent, I'll be there, front and center. But I'm already mourning the hit my self-image is going to take."

Luke smiled, looking genuinely excited, like there had ever been any possibility Bodhi might say no. "Would it help your self-image if we made cookies together and ate half the dough before baking anything?" 

Bodhi pushed up off the couch, grinning at Luke. "You know? I think that might be just the thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendssss. One of the things I love about writing this story is that I get to write really long-term friendships with all the weight and love of a romance. And I also get to write a romance! Win-win! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay in posting this one...editing brain has been aloof lately, I don't know why. But I finally sat down and made myself focus, so hopefully you all enjoyed.


	24. Fourth of July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge fills in on a last minute trip to Toronto

Fourth of July wasn't a holiday Wedge was excited about celebrating, but his garden had a partial view of the local park's fireworks show, and the day was a good excuse to get some gardening done. It was summer, the morning was nice and warm, and Wedge was about halfway done with his morning cup of coffee in the garden when his phone rang. 

"Antilles," he answered, setting his cup down and standing up to wander over to his succulent garden. They always loved the summer, and his Echeveria was getting big enough that he should probably trim it back and propagate new plants from the cuttings. 

"Wedge. Are you drunk?" came the voice of Lara, one of the hardworking people in charge of figuring out crewing. 

"It's seven. But let me guess, that didn't stop someone. Who do I need to put the fear of god into?" Wedge asked. 

"To be fair, Loran came down with the stomach flu, fair and square. He was scheduled for the 9:30 to Toronto. It's his relief that got stupid with the binge-drinking last night." 

Wedge growled. "Who." 

"Repness," the scheduler answered promptly. 

Wedge wrinkled his nose. Repness had been trouble of one kind or another for too long. It was almost good to have something concrete to cite him on. "I'll handle it." 

"Yeah, no doubt, but we're down two pilots, and it's a holiday." Lara trailed off. "We've got more flight crew than usual that requested the day off. We can delay the flight until we find one of them that are willing to come in anyway…" 

"No, I'll do it," Wedge answered, and he could hear the sigh of relief on the other end of the line. 

"Great!" Lara said cheerfully. "I'll let everyone know." 

Despite the slight last-minute rush, the flight departed on time, much to Wedge's satisfaction. It was a good trip. The first officer was clearly cowed to be flying with the chief pilot, and Wedge found himself thinking back to Bodhi asking, "Is it lonely?" 

It was, a bit. But not entirely. Some conversation drew his co-pilot out, and he learned that her dad was a pilot too. Dad had tried to convince each of her three brothers to follow him into his career without success, without ever breathing a word of flying to her. 

"The look on his face when I told him I was going to flight school!" she laughed. "Completely gobsmacked." 

Wedge shook his head. "Sexism," he said. 

She laughed in surprise. "Yeah, definitely. For what it's worth he's apologized to me about eight times. It's nice to talk to him about it now." 

"Good." 

They touched down in Toronto five hours later, and Wedge found the crew debating whether or not to try to procure some fireworks for a private celebration. They kept breaking off their discussion to throw worried glances over to Wedge. Sometimes it was no fun having the boss around. 

Just as well, Wedge wasn't feeling particularly social anyway. He left them in good cheer, offering them a company card to cover the holiday bar tab and instructions to not break any local explosives ordinances before heading into town on his own. He directed his driver toward the city center, and found Toronto City Hall. 

Wedge took some time walking around to find the best angle. There was a massive multicolored sign reading "Toronto" that he wanted in the background. Once he found an angle he was happy with, he pulled out his phone. Wedge founda good angle and posed for a selfie, holding up four fingers with his other hand. 

Another one for the album. Wedge had started the tradition when he was nineteen and out of the country for the first time on the Fourth of July, holding up a four fingers in front of a 'City Council of Nairobi Public View Point" sign. Of course, back then, selfies weren't a thing and he had a passing tourist take his picture with an actual film camera. It happened again the next year, and the next, and Wedge used those pictures to start his album. 

Dak had looked at the album full of exactly three pictures, then back up to Wedge, and said with a grin, "You are so much weirder than anybody gives you credit for." 

Wedge had counted that as the start of him and and Dak forging a real friendship, and Dak had appreciated each new addition to the album as the years went by. Wedge smiled. He wasn't entirely sure what his relationship to a possible afterlife was, but he liked the idea that Dak was still laughing at this photo, too. 

Wedge found a little cafe and ordered a sandwich, eating either a late lunch or an early dinner, depending on how he decided to call things. Probably lunch, eat again later, and basically try to stay on San Francisco time. 

His phone rang again, midway through the meal, and he answered it automatically, expecting it to be Human Resources with the sanction for Repness. "Antilles." 

"Oh, sounding serious there, lover. Is now a bad time?" came the cheerful, lilting voice of Bodhi Rook. 

Wedge felt himself brighten. "Not at all. Wasn't expecting you." 

"That's what caller ID is for." 

"You said you were flying today. I generally don't expect phone calls when you're responsible for keeping a tin can with delusions of grandeur in the air."

"Landed safe and sound," Bodhi reassured him. "Guess where?" 

Wedge felt an uneasy itch between his shoulderblades. "Honolulu?" he guessed hopefully. Bodhi had been talking about wanting to take a vacation out that way. 

"No!" Bodhi said brightly, "San Francisco! You at the condo?" 

Wedge felt his heart plummet, a prickling upset across his skin. If he hadn't taken this flight, he could be welcoming Bodhi into his home. They could have gotten dinner together and gone up to the garden and stolen kisses while watching the fireworks. But no. He had been stupid enough to— 

Wedge took a breath. No. Not stupid. He had chosen to fly rather than force one of his pilots to come in on a day they wanted to spend with their families, or delay an aircraft and force hundreds more people to endure an even more miserable travel. He had made the right call, even if it did mean missing out on one of those precious chances to spend time with Bodhi. 

"The silence doesn't seem promising," Bodhi said, some cheer slipping out of his tone. 

"No," Wedge said, not bothering to hide the regret in his voice. "One of my pilots was sick and the standby got stupid drunk last night and wasn't safe to fly in the morning." 

"Ah. He lost standby roulette." Bodhi sighed. "And let me guess…Chief Pilot Antilles to the rescue."

"I'm in Toronto," Wedge confirmed. 

"Damn," Bodhi said, and Wedge hoped he wasn't entirely imagining his disappointment. "Well, suppose this is what I get for trying to surprise you." 

"Sorry," Wedge said, swallowing hard. He shouldn't be so upset, really. So he missed a chance to see Bodhi. That happened. Bodhi wasn't—Bodhi __couldn't be_—_the thing Wedge built his life around. That wasn't healthy for either of them. "But San Francisco isn't a bad place to find yourself on the Fourth. I'm sure you'll find something interesting to do." 

Or some__one__ interesting, came the vicious little thought. This is the deal, Wedge reminded himself. This is how it goes sometimes. 

"Not as much fun as spending time with you," Bodhi said easily. 

Wedge's heart had _no_ idea how to take that. "We'll get a makeup. I'll catch a New York flight soon, okay? We'll coordinate schedules, make sure we're both there."

"That sounds perfect," Bodhi said, still sounding a little sad.

Wedge knew the feeling. "It's a plan, then," he said, trying for more cheer than he felt. "I'll let you go so you can…figure out what you're doing for the rest of your night." 

"Yeah," Bodhi said, sounding distracted. "Sounds good. Talk soon." 

"Yeah," Wedge said. "Looking forward to it." 

He kept his eyes shut for a long time after he hung up the phone. Images of Bodhi, dressed up in mesh and glitter, dancing into the slim hours of the morning before stumbling back to his hotel with some gorgeous young thing on his arm flitted through his imagination. Wedge felt bitterly jealous of that hypothetical person. He knew Bodhi slept with other people, it was a part of the deal, but tonight Bodhi had wanted Wedge, and he was probably going to crawl between the sheets with someone else instead. 

Which was _fine_. It's not like Wedge couldn't do the same. There was no injustice here. Just the sad ache of a missed opportunity. There'd be other chances, he reminded himself. Besides, maybe tonight not working out was a good thing. Give it a little longer before Bodhi got tired of Wedge.

Wedge snorted, staring down at his sandwich. His pessimistic side was winning. He needed a distraction. Maybe he could see if there were any good hiking trails around. 

* * *

Bodhi stared at his phone blankly, feeling an intense ache of disappointment entirely out of proportion to what had just happened. Wedge had filled in on a flight, and it meant that they missed each other. Sucked, but it was normal. There wasn't—this wasn't a good reason to feel like he had lost something precious. 

It was like Wedge said. He could go back to his crew hotel, get dressed up, go out, have a good time. It wasn't like there was a lack of things to do in San Francisco. There was probably a dozen different events he could slide his way into, lose himself in music and bodies, see if he could find someone to spend the night with. After all, Wedge had practically thrown him at the city and told him to have fun. 

Strange. That lack of jealousy usually felt so freeing. Bodhi wondered why it ached, now. 

He went back to the hotel, and the ache refused to fade. He didn't want to go out. Some petulant toddler part of himself had been woken up, and it didn't want to find an alternate plan. It wanted _Wedge_ and if it couldn't have Wedge than it didn't want to do anything other than sulk. 

Bodhi sat down hard on the hotel bed and sighed. He'd be miserable company like this. 

Instead of trying to cobble together something club-appropriate out of his bag, Bodhi hunted down his swim trunks and wandered down to the hotel pool. 

He sliced into the water with a practiced dive and set off at a brisk pace, pushing himself down the length of the pool and back. It wasn't a massive pool, but it was big enough to move in. The size was a comfort, in a way, three and four star hotels around the world had a uniformity, and Bodhi had lived in enough that it almost felt home-like. As he dove and kicked off the far wall, he felt his jitters start to settle. It was impossible for him to stay stressed in warm water. Swimming had always cleared his mind. 

In the peace of moving through water, Bodhi took a self-inventory. He wasn't feeling sick—no unusual pain and his energy levels were about the same as they always were after a cross country flight, not enough time zones crossed for serious jetlag. He wasn't particularly hungry or tired. He wasn't carrying any particular anger close to him right now. He was just…sort of sad, and he didn't want to go out. 

He still liked the idea of dancing. When he thought about being out with pulsing music and a moving crowd, it still sounded fun. He still loved the way a group could move together, the emotions and rhythms that moved through a space. It was the second half, the part where he found a person or two that he wanted to have a connection with and threw himself in with them—he had no desire to do that tonight. 

He remembered turning down Lyssa on the plane, and grunted with displeasure. This whole growing old thing apparently was more wide-reaching than he'd realized. 

Bodhi pushed himself hard in the pool for nearly and hour, not getting out until his arms burned and his legs ached. Some push-back against the idea that he was aging, he had enough self-awareness tor realize. Look and see what I can still do. 

The hot tub next to the pool had two of the flight crew in it, and they offered him cheerful smiles and called greetings. One of them, a handsome brunette with a rich laugh that had taken great joy in molding the potatoes of Bodhi's crew meal into the shape of a dick, also offered a quick up and down of Bodhi's dripping form. He scooted slightly and patted the side of the hot tub, eyebrows raised in an unspoken question. Bodhi checked hopefully within himself for interest. 

Nope. Nothing. 

Bodhi waved back, but shook his head and left, heading back up to his hotel room. Quick shower to rinse off, then he pulled up his texts.
    
    
      Do you suddenly turn into a big boring introvert when you get old?
    

His phone rang five minutes later. "I'm going to need a little more information," came the voice of Rachel, and Bodhi sent a quick thank-you again to the universe for helping him find his longsuffering therapist.

"You didn't need to call back so fast," Bodhi said. "Not a crisis." 

"Yeah, I know, but my six-o-clock cancelled and I'm curious. What's going on?" she asked gently. 

Bodhi sighed. "I just…okay, so you know how I feel about sex?" 

"Remind me," Rachel said. She hadn't forgotten, Bodhi knew ,but she was never one to let him get away with talking around his issues rather than through them. He had been with her long enough that he knew her games. 

Games. Therapeutic tools. Same difference. 

"It's connection," Bodhi said, because he had also been with her long enough to know she knew what she was doing. "And expression. A way to remind myself that I am good and deserve to feel good. A way to stick it to the world for trying to make me fit into a certain box." 

"Mmmhmm." 

"But lately I just...haven't wanted to. No energy for it," Bodhi finished. 

"A sudden change in your sex drive is something to be concerned about—" Rachel started. 

"Ah, no," Bodhi cut her off before she could get too far down the wrong path. "Everything's still working properly." Bodhi's mouth curled into a smile as he remembered exactly what he had hoped to do with Wedge this weekend. "I still want it and enjoy it." 

"So what's changed?" 

Bodhi paused. "I think…oh god, I think I'm getting _picky_. I don't—I haven't wanted to have sex with just anyone. Strangers."

"Interesting. Where do you think that's coming from?" 

"You're the therapist, you bloody well tell me!" Bodhi shot back, grinning. 

Rachel laughed, able to hear the humor in his words. "Nice try. There's a lot of reasons you might not be feeling a desire for casual sex right now, and I'm not going to try to sort them out with you over the phone. I will give you the heads up that it is probably not because age is turning you into a big boring introvert. Studies show that extraversion and openness do tend to decline slightly with age, but we wouldn't expect to see it all at once, and not in such specific an area." 

"Maybe I'm special," Bodhi said. He really didn't want to do any more self-discovery today. 

"Maybe you are," she said, in her coddling tone of voice. "That's one explanation: you're special. Why don't you try to find some others, and if you're stuck, make an appointment." 

"You're awful," Bodhi said with a sigh. "Thank you." 

"I am, and you're welcome," she said warmly. 

Bodhi huffed and threw himself backward on the bed. He'd need to think about this. Later, though. Tonight, he was tired and his muscles ached. He was going to order Chinese food and eat it in bed, while watching trashy reality television. The whole 'Know Thyself' thing could wait until he was back in New York. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor gents! Sometimes I write a chapter and then go, oh, hm, that's not hitting as hard as I want it to, and I have to go back and tweak*quite* as miserable as they were. But they've gotten all attached! 
> 
> It's sort of fun - I'm posting this chapter, which was written when it was still very chilly outside, just as we're getting the start of summer heat here too. Quite the riot of flowers happening outside, and it made rereading for edits nice - just imagining Wedge enjoying the heat in his own little tropical paradise.


	25. Afflicted by Personal Growth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi has dinner with some of his oldest friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Good to see you all again. This conversation features a conversation that covers some heavy topics, mind the warnings below. 
> 
> _Chapter Warnings include: mentions of parental death, mentions of death due to immigration to United States, mentions religious homophobia. Additional warnings for on-screen anxiety attack._

"I brought a red, so I hope whatever you're making goes with red," Bodhi called as he let himself into the house. 

Jyn's head appeared from the kitchen, and wrinkled her nose. "We made salmon with pesto and a homemade sourdough." 

Bodhi sighed. "So that's a no." 

Jyn shook her head, then a timer went off and she vanished back into the kitchen, to be replaced by Cassian, emerging from it. He gave Bodhi a small smile as he came over and took the wine. He turned it over in his hands. "California Cab, 2007. Mmm, we'll have do a steak night later. We have some Chardonnay we can break out for now." 

"It's a plan."

"Agreed," Cassian said, before setting the bottle on the small side table by the entrance opening his arms. Bodhi wrapped himself around Cassian and gave a content sigh, nuzzling into Cassian's neck. "You okay?" Cassian asked softly, one hand coming up to comb through Bodhi's hair. 

"I don't know," Bodhi said morosely. "I think I'm being afflicted by personal growth and I don't like it." 

"Ugh, miserable. That's always hard," Jyn said without a trace of irony, her voice getting louder as she approached them from the kitchen. A moment later, Jyn's forehead rested between Bodhi's shoulderblades as she wrapped her hands around his waist.

Bodhi gave a contented hum, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by people that knew him well and loved him anyway. Maybe even because of. He hadn't felt this relaxed since…

_"You're here," Wedge gripped the back of Bodhi's head and pulled their foreheads together, whispering fiercely, "and you're perfect."_

Bodhi shivered in their arms. 

Jyn laid a kiss on the back of his neck. "Tell us about it over dinner?"

"Yeah," Bodhi said, his mouth suddenly dry. 

Dinner was amazing. Jyn and Cassian made a dynamic pair in the kitchen—Cassian did more of the day-to-day cooking, but Jyn's knack for breadmaking meant the sourdough was exceptional. Bodhi alternated between stuffing his face and sharing his tale of woe. 

"And I have no idea what's going on!" Bodhi protested. "Rachel doesn't think it's just aging, but that something's changed, but I—" Bodhi sighed, shaking his head. "I've got no clue why it all seems like so much _work_ now." 

Jyn and Cassian exchanged an intent look. The two of them so rarely needed to talk, Bodhi seriously thought they had a form of telepathy between them. He got to join their psychic discussions sometimes, but other times, their speaking-without-speaking was a mystery to him as well. 

Like now. Which was really very frustrating. 

"What?" Bodhi demanded.

Jyn nodded, and Cassian turned back to Bodhi, furrowing his brow. "Well…" he started, his speech slow and deliberate—the way it always was when he was carefully thinking over his words. 

Ah, that wasn't good. Jyn did the blunt talking, Cassian took over when things were more delicate. Bodhi didn't like the idea that, whatever was going on, they thought it was delicate. He turned to Jyn. "Just fucking tell me." 

"Sometimes you use sex as a way to get connection while avoiding emotional intimacy. Sounds to me like you're finally getting tired of that," Jyn said promptly, narrowing her eyes in challenge as she said the words. Next to her, Cassian gave a faint, put-upon sigh. 

Bodhi made an undignified squeaking noise. "You take that back! I'm amazing at emotional intimacy."

"Sometimes," Jyn pressed on, merciless, "but listen to the language you're using! It's too much work, it seems exhausting. That doesn't sound rich and emotionally fulfilling." 

"That doesn't mean—"

"You've used sex as a shortcut to emotional connection for years, and now you're realizing that method has some flaws!" 

"You are so off-base I can't even—" 

Cassian snapped his fingers, holding up an index finger in a shushing motion to both Jyn and Bodhi. Bodhi cut himself off and took a breath, offering Cassian an apologetic head duck. 

Cassian smiled, a quiet acceptance. "It's not meant as a judgement, and we're certainly not excluding ourselves. God knows none of us have managed to escape childhood free of emotional baggage." 

Jyn snorted at that, and Bodhi had to chuckle too. 

Jyn had lost her mother to cancer when she was seven, and then her father to work almost immediately after. She had said, more than once, that Bodhi knew Galen better than she did. Bodhi couldn't argue with her—Galen had helped him cut ties with Imperial, and as near as Bodhi could tell, that was more active involvement than he had ever had with his daughter, no matter how fondly he thought of her. 

Cassian had made it to fourteen before his father had been deported, sent a letter to Cassian and his mom telling them he was trying to make his way back, and then…nothing. Lost to the desert, as far as anyone knew, and his mother lost to the church after that. She still didn't know her son was bi, and Cassian refused to tell her, insisting he didn't want to make her choose between her son and her faith. One night, pressed tight between Jyn and Bodhi, he had confessed that he didn't believe she'd choose him. 

Bodhi and Jyn and Cassian had first connected over their shared broken spaces, and supported each other in mending them. Which was why this was so confusing, god damn it. "You two were the ones that taught me what sex could be," Bodhi said, not bothering to hide the plaintive tone in his voice. "That we choose what it means, who we do it with. No shame. Why are you getting all judgy now?" 

Jyn made an impatient noise, but didn't say anything, gesturing instead for Cassian to continue leading the conversation. 

Cassian did, reaching out to take Bodhi's hand. "No. Never shame. Joy and freedom and self-expression." 

"Right! Fuck, I'd kept my desires buttoned down for so long…" Bodhi looked between the two of them. "You both know this. You know this better than anyone. I didn't even have words for what I wanted." 

"Had to fight for every sentence," Jyn said with affectionate nostalgia. "Now we can't get you to shut up." 

Bodhi tched, freeing one hand from Cassian's grip and reaching over to give her an irritated swat. She grabbed it instead, twining her fingers through his and squeezing. She brushed a kiss against his fingertips then released his hand again. 

"Listen," Jyn said. "We know you, yeah? And I don't think either Cassian or I are surprised by this." 

Bodhi shot a glance over to Cassian. The traitor was shaking his head with an apologetic smile. 

"I'm surprised by it," Bodhi grumbled. "What do you see that I don't?"

"A decade ago, you were so excited by each new thing," Cassian said. "You couldn't wait to try it." 

"Well, yeah, I hadn't had _any_ sex yet—it was all new."

"So you sampled widely and it served you well. But…I feel like in the last few years, it's become less about you, and more about other people." 

Bodhi felt prickling between his shoulder blades. He pulled his hand back from Cassian and folded his arms in front of him, shifting uncomfortably. He knew exactly how obvious he was being with this defensive huddle, but Jyn and Cassian would be able to read him no matter what he did, so he might as well curl up for the comfort.

Cassian didn't look hurt; he just pressed on. "I'm wondering if maybe you need to be selfish for a little while. Find a deeper experience, rather than a wider one." 

_Whatever you want,_ Bodhi had promised. And Wedge had answered, _Don't worry, I know what you like._

"I…" Bodhi's biceps ached from where his fingertips pressed into them. He deliberately loosened his grip. "So, what, I've been…?"

"Making other people feel really, really good, and maybe not caring about yourself enough," Jyn said.

Bodhi flinched, and Cassian reached towards him, palm up. "Continuing a pattern that's served you well in the past, but may need to be reexamined," he offered, more diplomatically. 

"Look, baby," Jyn stood up from the table and walked around to where Bodhi sat, reaching down and running her fingers gently along his temples and down his cheek, "you're learning more about what you don't want. Now, the question is"—Jyn's fingers reached his chin and tightened, she jerked his chin up to her and asked, her voice suddenly snapping—"what _do _you want?"

Bodhi responded on instinct, melting toward her. Jyn liked control, Cassian liked giving it up, and Bodhi loved being between them. Jyn's sharp grip and snapped words had always boded very, very well for Bodhi. But with their recent conversation still churning through his mind, Bodhi couldn't help but notice that there was no excitement in it this time. No adventure. No longing. It was all habit and craving the familiar.

Bodhi froze, sparkling, ice-cold fear spiking through his veins. Jyn and Cassian were—they were his baseline. Ever since he had moved to New York, he had known them, had loved them, had found a space for himself with them. They were constants in the life he loved and he—he _couldn't_ _lose them._

One fear built on another, leaping from sensible to senseless with alarming speed. He'd lose them, he'd lose Luke, he'd lose his job, his life would fall apart, every good fucking thing he'd fought for, he'd built, it'd be gone, it'd be ash, it'd be— 

"Hey, hey," Jyn's voice lost it's sharpness, and her hand gentled on his chin, flattening and shifting until she had a palm pressed against his cheek. Her other hand went down and grabbed his own, laying it against her belly. "Breathe with me." She took a slow inhale, and Bodhi felt the movement of her breath against his palm. 

Bodhi fought to match it, as he prickled all over and his mind screamed that he was being attacked. But he followed her slow inhale, exhale, inhale, and gradually his adrenaline system got the idea that he wasn't in immediate danger.

"Can you tell me what that was about?" Cassian asked. He was by Bodhi's shoulder now; he had moved at some point during Bodhi's stupid little freakout session. 

Bodhi took another breath. Anxiety attack, he mentally corrected himself. You're embarrassed, and still scared, but insulting yourself is only going to make it worse. "It was…" Bodhi shook his head. "No, I'm just…getting myself worked up over nothing." Bodhi reached up and grabbed both of their shoulders, pulling himself up off the chair. 

Cassian gave a disapproving hum. "Bodhi…" 

"Okay, not nothing," Bodhi leaned forward and brushed a kiss against Cassian's cheek. "But it's something I want distraction from, right now, not talking through." Bodhi shifted to kiss Cassian's mouth, the firm press of lip against lip that was always so grounding. But there wasn't any peace in it this time, Bodhi's head still felt dizzy with panic, and it still wasn't _right_ it didn't feel _good_, didn't feel— 

Cassian stepped back, and Bodhi pushed forward, a little desperately, to chase him. He kissed Cassian again, more teeth this time, determined to find the safe, familiar thing he was used to. He'd summon it back by sheer force of will if he had to. 

Cassian retreated again, and this time laid his hand firmly in the middle of Bodhi's chest to keep him from chasing. "Yellow," Cassian said, and Bodhi with sudden, record-scratch clarity, realized just how much of an asshole he was being. 

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Bodhi gasped. He stumbled a couple steps back, only stopping when his thighs hit the table. 

"Yeah," Jyn said, sounding decisive. "Red. We're not having sex tonight. Something's off. You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but—" 

"No, that's probably a good idea," Bodhi said, feeling numb. "I'm sorry, I just—I'll go."

"Nope," Jyn said, reaching down and taking Bodhi's hand. "I'm worried about you. Come on, you don't have to talk," she said, and dragged him over to the couch, pushing (not particularly gently, either) him down. "Keep him there," she ordered Cassian, and vanished. 

There was an awkward moment as he and Cassian stared at each other. Bodhi looked away first. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—I should have paid better attention." 

"Forgiven. And you stopped when I asked you to. That's the important thing."

Jyn returned then, holding...a hairbrush. "Here," she said, tossing it to Bodhi. "Do something with your hands," she ordered, pushing his knees apart and sitting down between them. She leaned forward and pulled her hair free, so her mid-length brown hair spilled over his lap. 

Bodhi looked from the hairbrush, to Jyn, and had to take a second to close his eyes and be grateful for the depth of how well they knew him. He reached forward, taking Jyn's hair, and started to run the brush through it, being careful of tangles. 

After a minute, Cassian settled down next to Bodhi on the couch. "Do you know how to French braid?" he asked. 

"No," Bodhi answered, the word coming out a little choked, there was so much emotion in his throat. 

"Want to learn?" Cassian asked. 

"Sure." 

Cassian leaned his chin on Bodhi's shoulder and murmured instructions. They got the braid done, sloppy and lopsided, and Cassian decided, "Not bad for a first try." 

Bodhi started combing it out to try again, and he felt settled enough to say, "So there's a guy."

Jyn gave an interested hum and squeezed his ankle. 

"And I, um, started seeing him. A little while ago. It's been—good, honestly. It's been really good." 

"Is it Luke?" Jyn asked. 

Bodhi coughed. "No! I'm not sleeping with Luke," he said with indignation and technical honesty. 

Jyn held up her hands. "You guys would be cute together. All I'm saying." 

Cassian hummed in approval.

"I…yeah, we're going to have to…unpack that later. But the, uh, guy. He's got the, um, standard deal, I guess. No strings, hook up when we find time together, I don't kiss and tell unless you give me permission. You know." 

"Has the deal been an issue?" Cassian asked, reaching down to capture a strand of Jyn's hair that had flopped free of Bodhi's grip and holding it until Bodhi's could hook his pinkie around it again. 

"Thanks. And, no? But I was surprised. It's been…" Bodhi struggled over the words until he figured out that Cassian had already given him the words he needed. "A deep sort of relationship. He knows about a lot of my shit. Like, parents shit." 

"And how did he take that?" Jyn asked, in a tone of voice that let Bodhi know she would gladly teach anyone the error of their ways if they didn't take it well.

Bodhi loved that tone of voice, and he leaned down and kissed the top of her head as a thank-you. "He took it really, really well, actually. It's all been…perfect, really. Except for the fact that apparently, he fucking _broke_ me." 

Cassian, next to Bodhi, snorted. 

Bodhi chose to interpret it as a supportive snort. 

"So you think it's his fault you don't want casual sex anymore?" Jyn said, skeptically. 

Bodhi took a deep breath. "I'm scared it's not just casual sex. I just—" Cold-panic terror skittered over his skin again. "I can't lose you."

"You won't." Cassian pressed his shoulder against Bodhi's. "You know that." 

"It's dumb, I know." Bodhi swallowed, and looked down at his hands. They were starting to shake, and worried that he might pull Jyn's hair, he carefully untangled his fingers from the braid. "I shouldn't get so worked up about it. So what if I have a crush? Or whatever this is. It's just emotions. I chose how I want to live." 

Jyn stood up, shifted, and flopped down on the couch next to him, stretching her legs across his lap until her feet were in Cassian's. 

Bodhi reached down and patted her knee. "I'm not running away." 

Jyn gave a tight smile. "You might try, when you hear what I have to say next." 

Bodhi groaned. "No! That felt like a pretty good conclusion! This conversation doesn't need to continue." 

"You decided to live your life in the way that makes you happiest. You chose to do the things that make you happy, and fuck the rest of the world who disagreed." 

"Uh-huh," Bodhi said. "Thank you for the summary of my first eight months of therapy. Is there a point?"

"So why are you ignoring what's actually making you happy?"

"I'm not bloody well happy right now." The words came out as a raw snarl. 

"Yeah. Because you think that if you stop fucking us, you're going to lose us." Jyn swung her legs off of Bodhi, sitting up and leaning close to him. She grabbed his chin and dragged him around, and Bodhi found himself staring into her fierce eyes. "You're not."

Jyn's strength had never let Bodhi down before, and he trusted it now, too. Bodhi leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. "Why aren't you hurt? If you and Cassian suddenly decided to be monogamous, I'd be hurt." 

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm going to miss the sex," Jyn said. "But I've been worried about you for awhile now. You…" Jyn leaned back with a huff, and gestured to Cassian to take over. 

"You know how every two years or so we offer to marry you? Or move you in with us, or something more committed. You never want it." 

"We've got a good thing," Bodhi protested. "You and Jyn have a good thing. I don't want to fuck it up." 

"Which is the argument we have every couple years. But I can't help but keep asking, because…" Cassian trailed off, shaking his head a little as he looked back to Bodhi. "The way you looked at Luke and Dak. What they had. I think I've always felt you wanted something like it." 

"Yep. And while Cass and I would have kept you in a second, you never wanted it. So yeah, I'm a little bummed it wasn't us that you needed. But I'm not surprised. And I'm…hopeful?" Jyn shrugged. "Either way, you don't lose us, and whoever this guy is just is going to have to understand that your most important family isn't biological." 

Bodhi took a breath, for the first time feeling like he could actually fill his lungs. "Maybe." 

"You'll think about it?" Cassian asked. 

"You'll call Rachel about it," Jyn ordered. "This is clearly bringing up some shit." 

"I will, and I will." Bodhi sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Change is terrible and transition is exhausting."

"Agreed. But sometimes good," Cassian said. "So, tell us about him? Whatever you're comfortable sharing." 

Bodhi grunted, and feeling a little flitter of nerves, pulled out his phone. "Give me a sec." He pulled up Wedge's number, and after a moment of hesitation, called him. 

"Safely back in New York?" Wedge asked instead of hello. 

"That I am," Bodhi said with a smile. It was good to hear his voice. 

Oh god. He was turning into such a sap. 

"Hey, question for you," Bodhi said quickly, before he succumbed to to giggling or blushing or something awful like that. "I'm over at Jyn and Cassian's, and I was wondering if you were okay with me telling them about you. I just…realized I wanted to share." 

Wedge was silent for a moment, and Bodhi belatedly realized Wedge probably assumed he was there for sex. Which, he was. Had been. But he suddenly didn't want Wedge to think that, he didn't want Wedge to think he was one out of many, when he was…

He was… 

"You can tell whoever you want about me," Wedge said, cutting off that thought before Bodhi needed to reach a conclusion. "You're not something I'm trying to hide." 

There was no good reason that those words should feel like sliding into a hot-tub with churning jets, warm and relaxing and just a little thrilling. But it did, because Bodhi's body and mind were teaming up on him, apparently. 

"Same goes for you," Bodhi said, wanting to offer the same reassurance, on the off-chance it could make Wedge happy too. "No secrets here." 

If it had been anyone other than Jyn and Cassian in the room, Bodhi would have fled the room, these innocuous sentences felt almost sacred, too weighty for uncaring ears. Bodhi wrapped up the conversation as quickly as he could, ending with a promise to, "talk soon," before he hung up. 

"Holy fuck," Jyn said. "Your whole"—She drew her hands in a vague circle around Bodhi's face and torso—"changed. You really like this guy!" 

"Apparently," Bodhi said, his dismay genuine, but more playful now.

"Who is it?" Cassian asked. "I want to point out it would have been simple to read his contact information, but I didn't, because I respect your privacy." 

"Thank you," Bodhi offered with a smile. "So, it's, um…Wedge. Antilles. Luke's friend."

"Wait." Jyn held up a finger. "You're fucking the Other Best Friend?"

Bodhi wrinkled his nose and nodded. 

"That could blow up in your face." 

"Jyn!" Bodhi shoved at her shoulder. "Not reassuring." 

"He's hot?" Jyn tried again. "So maybe it's worth it?"

Bodhi groaned and covered his face with his hands, flopping back against the couch. "I don't know why I like you." 

"Beyond him being hot," Cassian started, before winking, and adding, "which, by the way, yes, agreed. And also potentially complicated in regards to Luke, what's he like?" 

"Oh, don't get me started," Bodhi groaned. "He's grumpy and he argues with me all the time and he's incredibly dumb when it comes to his emotions and he's surprising and kind and so engaging to talk to and…ugh!" He threw his hands up in the air. "He's awful. He's awful and I like him __so much_._"

Cassian laughed, a sharp chortle that Bodhi knew he had been trying not to let out. Bodhi smiled and shook his head. Cassian let his amusement show more plainly on his face. "He sounds fascinating." 

"That's one word for it." Bodhi sighed. "He's difficult to capture. I could probably talk for hours and still not explain why I like him." 

"Well, maybe we should all grab some beer, get comfy, and then you give it your best shot," Jyn decided. "I'm curious. Tell me everything." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More time with Jyn and Cassian, yay! I've been wanting to bring their relationship with Bodhi more to the center for awhile now. They're important people to him, romantic or platonic! 
> 
> Some backstory, in case I don't find a good place to work it in later - we know that Bodhi was treated very badly at Imperial. Galen is an engineer at Imperial who saw what was going on and convinced upper management they had a lawsuit risk on their hand. He managed to convince them to get Bodhi a cushy contract with a different airline in exchange for signing an NDA re: how he was treated at Imperial. Since the contract was in New York, Galen asked his daughter to look in on him, since Bodhi wouldn't have other friends. Jyn did it out of grumpy obligation at first, then realized she actually liked the guy, and they've been friends (and often lovers) ever since.


	26. The Appetizer Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is out on a date when he gets a very frantic phone call...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. It's been rough lately, hasn't it? I hope you are all doing well, as safe, as well, and as joyful as you are capable of being. 
> 
> I know for me, when the world is hard, it's easy to discount the things that bring fun and relaxation as unimportant and irrelevant. But I also know that's a lie, and it's one that leaves me burned out and exhausted if I listen to it for too long. 
> 
> May we all have our places to rest and recharge.

"I dunno, babe," Ezra said, his brow furrowed as he stared at the menu, "on one hand, spinach and artichoke dip is amazing, on the other hand _fried cheese_." 

"You are not actually helping us make a decision here," Luke informed him with a smile. "Come on, I'm taking you out to dinner, you have to choose the appetizer, it's in the contract." 

Ezra sighed. "Alright, desperate times call for desperate measures." He dramatically slapped one hand over his eyes and let his index finger fall on the menu. He crooked his fingers open, one blue eye blinking through the gap. "Damn. Looks like we're stuck with the house salad." 

"The house salad does not count as an appetizer," Luke protested. 

"It's on the appetizer page," Ezra replied with finality. "The index finger has spoken, Luke." 

"Have y'all decided what you wanted?" their waiter asked, coming up to the table. His warm Georgian accent betrayed him as a recent transplant to the northern climes. Either that, or he had learned that the homey tones won him more tips. 

"Yes," Ezra said, glumly. "Looks like we'll have the—" 

"The mozzarella sticks and the artichoke dip," Luke cut in decisively. 

Ezra brightened. "Oh, that is a better way of resolving things. Yes! That." 

The waiter's brow furrowed for just a moment, before he nodded and said, "You got it! Anything else I can get for ya?" 

"We need a little longer to figure out the meal," Luke said, and the waiter gave them an affirmative nod, and strode away again. 

"Two appetizers," Ezra said, pitching his voice lower. "Watch out, I'm going to really think you like me." 

"I do really like you," Luke said with a smile, reaching across the table to squeeze Ezra's forearm.

"Then help me, do I want the—"

"I'm not buying you two entrées. Figure it out." Luke patted Ezra's arm and withdrew his hand.

"How quickly the affection fades." Ezra winked, and returned to the menu. 

A moment later, Luke's phone buzzed insistently in his pocket, and when Luke pulled it out, he saw that Bodhi was calling. He debated not answering, but Ezra would be at least another five minutes figuring out which burger he wanted. Luke held his phone up at Ezra, who nodded absently and waved him away. 

Luke answered as he was picking his way to the front of the restaurant. "Hey." 

"You!" Bodhi exclaimed, "This is _your_fault."

Luke ran through the mental list of things that might be his fault, and came up blank. "Did...Gup do something?" he asked, hazarding a guess as he pushed through the large glass doors and into the warm summer night in front of the restaurant. 

"What..I, no! This isn't _Gup's_ fault! Well…" Bodhi trailed off, musing. "Actually, I suppose I was pretty jealous that Wedge got to meet her first. Maybe that started this whole thing…" 

"I'm very lost," Luke admitted. "What's the problem?" 

"I _like _your _dumb friend_!" Bodhi hissed. 

Luke blinked. "The…one you're sleeping with? I should hope so." 

"No!" Bodhi said, half in agony, half whining. "It's _so much_ worse than that!"

"Are you sleeping with another of my friends?" Luke asked, mild horror starting to work its way up his spine. "You're right, that's much worse. I don't want to know." 

"No. I'm not," Bodhi said, sounding mournful. "And I might never again. Luke! It's Wedge! I _like_ like him." 

The horror retreated, and Luke stood up a little straighter, amusement starting to curl his mouth into half a smile. "You mean…wait, what's that word you couldn't pronounce the other day? It's on the tip of my tongue." 

"Luke Skywalker don't you dare—"

"It'll come to me any minute, I have one too, it starts with a b…" 

"I don't want a boyfriend!" Bodhi hissed. 

"That's it! You want Wedge to be your boooy—" 

"I am trying to have a crisis over here, could you at least take it seriously?" Bodhi protested. 

"Bodhi, I love you, but if you were really having a crisis you wouldn't have lead with 'This is your fault.' You're fine." 

"I…it's a mini-crisis. A criselet, if you will." 

"Okay. Shouldn't this criselet be something you're talking about with Wedge?"

"No!" Bodhi said quickly. "I can't—I mean, what if he doesn't like me?" 

"Glad to know we're in Junior High again," Luke said, fighting back a laugh. 

"Fuck you, I didn't get to go through this when I was a baby teenager. I'm allowed the drama now." 

Luke sobered slightly, as he remembered what Bodhi had shared about his childhood and adolescence. "You're right," he said, voice softening. "Alright, hit me with the drama."

Bodhi sighed. "I already did," he said, the overblown hysterics gone from his voice. Very quietly, he said, "I don't know how to ask for this." 

"You'll figure it out," Luke reassured him. "For all the similarities, you aren't actually a teenager anymore. You've developed an impressive communications toolbelt. You'll find the words that fit." 

"What if I'm just…if he thinks that I'm just a bit of fun?" Bodhi barked out a bitter laugh. "I am aware how hypocritical I'm being right now, by the way. Don't feel any need to point that out." 

"If you want to know what Wedge is feeling, you're going to have to—"

"—talk to Wedge. I _know_, I just don't want to." 

"For what it's worth…" Luke paused, before deciding to push ahead. "Wedge has always done the monogamy thing. He's usually done the nobody thing. I'd be shocked if he was sleeping with someone else right now, no matter what sort of deal the two of you have. And…he really seems to like you." 

"You think so?" Bodhi asked, sounding hopeful. 

"Wedge is very good at making his dislike known," Luke said dryly. "I'm pretty sure." 

"That helps. Alright, look, I've got like three different speeches I'm considering—" 

"Nope," Luke said, abruptly. "I am on a date, we are not running through all that." 

"On a—Why did you answer your phone?" 

"Because you're important," Luke answered. "And because Ezra always takes ten minutes to figure out what he wants to eat and that sort of makes me want to kick him. I'm heading off my own violent tendencies, here." 

"Get back to your boyfriend, Luke," Bodhi said.

"Good luck figuring out how to get one of your own," Luke replied with a grin. 

"I hate you, thanks for talking me through this." 

"You love me, you're welcome."

Bodhi sighed. "You're right, I do. Fine. I'll call and bitch about this later." 

"Feel free to not," Luke said firmly. "Talk to Wedge." 

"Do I have to?" Bodhi whined. "Bitching to you is much more fun." 

"To _Wedge_," Luke replied, then hung up the phone. 

He pushed his way back through the restaurant, running the tips of his fingers along Ezra's shoulders as he made his way to his seat. Ezra smiled at Luke and gave a contented little shoulder wiggle. "Any trouble?" 

Luke thought about what he knew about Bodhi, and about Wedge, and his own worries that their fundamental natures would eventually lead to disaster. But Wedge had seemed content to accept Bodhi as he was, and now…well, maybe Luke had been wrong about Bodhi's nature, after all. 

"I don't think so," he answered honestly. "Good news, in fact." 

"Well," Ezra said with a smile, "good! I have good news as well! I've got it narrowed down to just three different burgers." 

Luke groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Next time I'm taking you to someplace that only serves one thing. Like a hotdog stand." 

"Even a hotdog stand would be romantic, if I were with you," Ezra said, with saccharine sweetness. 

Luke lifted his head. "I recognize that you're joking but that's actually really nice." 

"I use irony to hide my earnest nature sometimes," Ezra said, sounding sarcastic. "I'm being very sincere right now. I...dang it, my voice got stuck in sarcasm mode." He cleared his throat. "Honest." 

Luke couldn't help his laugh. "You're wonderful. Now figure out what you want to eat before I murder you. Affectionately."

Ezra laughed, and turned his attention back to the menu again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's honestly been a little hard to focus on fic lately, but yesterday I was rereading some of the lovely comments folks have left, and it helped me get myself together enough to open up the document and edit this next chapter. Shoutout to DollyBasset for also betaing this one very quickly! 
> 
> It had been long enough since I wrote it that I enjoyed rereading it as a fun, lighter break. I hope this little moment of friends being dramatic with each other brought you a bit of joy, too :D


	27. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge was going to be at his front door in twenty-five minutes, and Bodhi still didn't know what he was going to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! 
> 
> You know, each time I post a chapter, these days, I'm _sure_ that this time I will get back to my nice every-other-week schedule. 
> 
> And then...I don't. I'm not beating myself up about it, though. Life gets crazy, it happens. I remain hopeful, maybe next time :D

Wedge was going to be at his front door in twenty-five minutes, and Bodhi still didn't know what he was going to say. Or if he was going to say anything, really. 

Fidelity. Commitment. Terrible, big words that had seemed just barely manageable when he was talking about it with Luke. With enough time, and a plan, he'd figure out a way to casually mention something whenever he saw Wedge again. Which, with their rosters, should have been at least a month out. Except, Wedge was apparently really serious about their make-up after missing each other on the Fourth of July, and had traded for a flight in on the fifteenth. 

Less than two weeks. That wasn't nearly enough time to figure out a possible change in self-identity. He had three emergency sessions with Rachel, which helped, but aside from that…well, Luke had borne the brunt of that, Bodhi had to admit. 

It was still his __fault__. The least he could do is listen to Bodhi process. And process, in this situation, meant high-pitched high-speed ranting as Bodhi went back-and-forth on at least three different approaches. Luke didn't actually give advice, but Bodhi didn't really need it. He just needed someone to listen. Witness. And as supportive and loving as they were, it seemed cruel to dump this on Jyn and Cassian. 

Luke, despite some exasperated sighing and a periodic reminders that he really needed to talk to _Wedge_, was good at this sort of thing. Bodhi, once again, was grateful for the quality and quantity of people who wanted good things for him.

But processing, both therapeutic and otherwise still hadn't helped him actually reach a decision. He had no idea how to ask for the thing he had always insisted he didn't _need _and didn't _want_. So he was stuck. 

At least, he had been stuck. Early this morning, he woke up, and with beautiful clarity, struck upon The Solution. 

The Solution was, basically, say nothing. Try out the whole monogamy thing and just...not tell Wedge. It was only fair! If Luke was right, that was what Wedge had been doing the entire time, after all. Monogamy, but don't call it that. Keep the options open, and don't take them. Perfect. Bodhi could live the life he apparently wanted, and not need to admit to the world that anything had changed. 

The Solution was ideal, really. He briefly considered calling up Luke and running The Solution by him. He hadn't, though, and he was self-aware enough to know that was because Luke probably wouldn't approve. It smacked of cowardice. Luke would probably say something insightful about honesty and the whole idea would go up in flames. 

Maybe Wedge deserved better. Maybe Bodhi did too. But once he opened the door he couldn't close it again easily, and was it really so bad to want to be sure before he opened it? 

No. No it wasn't. No pressure. Just hang out, enjoy Wedge's company, that's all this needed to be. 

Bodhi felt like he was crawling out of his skin with nerves, but if he started baking something now, he'd be half-covered in flour by the time Wedge actually got here. 

Bodhi looked at the clock. Surely, Wedge would be here any minute now—

Twenty-three minutes until Wedge arrived. 

Bodhi gave up and retreated to the kitchen. 

Twenty-two minutes later there was a knock on his door, just as Bodhi finished tossing the ginger-molasses cookie dough in the fridge to chill. He looked down at his palms, stained a dark brown from the molasses and sighed. He probably should have gone with a neater stress-relief project. He gave them a quick rinse to remove the stickiness, and then jogged for the front door. 

All the nerves he had managed to suppress while pulling together a quick cookie dough started pouring out then, and his still-faintly-stained fingers trembled as he reached for the door. 

He glared at his hands. This was, frankly, humiliating. He was nearly forty. He should have had this all out of his system by the time he was nineteen. He was more dignified than this! But his hands didn't listen, and neither did his heart, pounding away hard enough that the thudding rhythm was nearly deafening.

Bodhi clenched his fingers, then forced them loose, and (before he could let his nerves overwhelm him again) opened the door. 

Wedge stood there, left hand on his rolling flight bag, right hand balancing a box against his hip. Bodhi's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him looking stern and dignified in his Wraith uniform. The sternness faded as soon as Wedge caught Bodhi’s eye. His face folded into a smile, the expression wrinkling the soft skin at the corners of his eyes. 

All the nerves that had been prickling along Bodhi's skin vanished, replaced with fond warmth and an urge to brush that delicate skin. He wanted to make Wedge smile over and over, for decades, until he could look at Wedge's laugh lines with the satisfaction that he was the one that had put them there. 

"Come on in," Bodhi said, knowing he was smiling in return. 

Fuck. He really was gone on this guy. 

Wedge maneuvered his bag in, and walked over to the dining room table, setting the box down on top of it. "I, uh, brought you something." Wedge reached into the box and pulled out a small pot, offering it to Bodhi. "Got some funny looks when it joined me on the flight deck." 

Bodhi went over and peered, finding small green buds sticking out from dark soil. He tipped his head to the side, giving Wedge a questioning eyebrow raise. 

Wedge grinned, looking a little sheepish. "My echeveria started to get too big for its pot. I cut it back, and propagated some new plants from the cutting. I remembered you had the window"—Wedge gestured back to where the broad window dominated Bodhi's living room—"And thought your vines might like the company." 

"Wedge!" Bodhi said, blinking at the pot as he experienced a strange rush of emotions—pride and surprise and affection so strong it made his teeth ache. "You're trusting me with your plant babies?"

Red crept its way up Wedge's neck, as he glanced around the room, unable to meet Bodhi's eyes. "Don't feel like you need to keep it. I've got a ton, and I was coming out here anyway, and—" 

"Nonsense," Bodhi cut him off, taking the pot out of his hands. He strode over to the window and set it down, front and center between the two vining plants he'd bought when he moved in and managed not to kill so far. He looked at the little plant in its new home, tangible evidence of Wedge in his space. It felt right. Bodhi's apartment had always been the space he had crafted just for himself and somehow, having Wedge here made it feel even more like home. 

He had to tell Wedge. Maybe it'd go well, maybe it wouldn't, but The Solution that worked so well in his imagination fell apart when confronted by reality. Wedge was perfect for Bodhi. The careful conditions that Bodhi applied to all his relationships no longer applied. He cared. He wanted strings attached. And whether or not he felt the same, Wedge deserved to know. 

Time to be brave. 

Bodhi took a breath, still looking at the plant. "I missed you on the Fourth." 

"I missed you too," Wedge said, coming over to stand next to Bodhi. He reached for the plant on the left (that Bodhi had named Rapunzel) and picked up one of her vines, running his thumb along a spot that had started to yellow. "I'm sure you had a good time, though."

"I didn't, actually." Bodhi tried to keep his voice light and easy, like this was a joke that they were sharing, and not the most vulnerable part of his heart. "I pretty much just sulked the whole night. If I couldn't have you, I didn't want anyone else." 

Wedge's fingers stilled on the vine. He very deliberately set the trailing leaves back down on the windowsill. "I didn't realize I had made such an impression," he said. Wedge was trying for joking, too, but he sounded confused. 

Bodhi couldn't blame him. It was really fucking confusing. "You did. And, um"—Bodhi took a deep breath and said a prayer to any watching gods that cared about romantic fools—"you still do. Are? I mean…I haven't slept with anyone else. Since then. And I don't think I'm going to." 

"I'm not…asking for that," Wedge said quietly. Bodhi still couldn't make himself look Wedge in the face, so he watched Wedge's hands. The tips of his fingers braced against the windowsill, an almost casual gesture, except that he was pressing so hard against the wood the beds of his nails were turning white. 

Bodhi reached over and took Wedge's hand, lifting it away from the windowsill as he, finally, turned to face Wedge. The expression on Wedge's face was the same one as when Bodhi had come in and started putting things right after the surgery. He had been carrying pain, he thought he might be getting relief, he wasn't sure he could trust it yet. 

No surprise, Luke had been right. This was something Wedge wanted. How could Bodhi not have seen it before? Maybe he had, but had pushed it away because it wasn't convenient. 

Or maybe he had, and it was what had drawn him to Wedge this whole time. 

"I know," Bodhi said simply. "You've never been jealous, never tried to tie me down. I'm here because it's what I want. You're _who _I want." 

Wedge's breath caught, but when he spoke the words were steady. "I'm not planning on going anywhere. You don't need to offer monogamy to keep me around." 

"Ugh," Bodhi wrinkled his nose. "Do we have to use that word? I just—" he gave an overly dramatic shiver. Then he gave Wedge a lopsided smile and squeezed his hand. "It's you or nobody. And I'm not trying to change the deal on you, you still sleep with as many people as you want. But…it's changed for me, and I thought you should know." 

Wedge snorted. "I haven't slept with anyone other than you since we started. It's not really how I work. If you want something committed, you've already got it." 

Bodhi blinked at Wedge, and he couldn't…he couldn't quite believe it was that easy. Rewriting his self-identity was supposed to be painful, it was supposed to involve tears and gnashing of teeth and possibly some overly-grand declarations. It wasn't supposed to be this, holding hands in front of houseplants, listening as Wedge told Bodhi the thing he didn't know how to ask for was the thing he had all along. 

But it was. Bodhi swallowed hard, the lump of emotion in his throat making it hard to say anything more than, "Thank you." 

Wedge…smirked. "Hey, I'll tell you what," he said, his voice dropping into a low purr. 

Bodhi furrowed his eyebrows, feeling flat-footed in the face of the emotional tone shift. 

"You," Wedge used his free hand to lay an index finger against the tip of Bodhi's nose, "can still sleep with anyone you want to. As long as you want them more than me." He curled his finger in a quick flick against Bodhi's nose, winking as he did so. "Go for it, no questions asked." 

Bodhi narrowed his eyes, the saccharine balloon of sweet emotion that had been inflating inside of him abruptly popped, and indignant rage came flooding out. Wedge knew, he __knew__. If there had been anybody on this entire planet that held a candle to Wedge, Bodhi never would have made this offer. 

Wedge was smiling with false generosity, no-doubt sure that the offer he was making was one that Bodhi was never going to take. Just laying it out there to rub it in Bodhi's face how truely, improbably, ridiculously perfect Wedge was for him. Even this stupid little challenge was perfect. 

"Fuck you," Bodhi said, trying to hold back a smile. 

"Well that sounds like a fabulous idea." Wedge grinned. "Bedroom?" 

"Why wait?" Bodhi shot back, smiling as an excuse to bare his teeth. "There's a perfectly good couch, right here." 

They collided in a rough kiss, fighting for control with teeth and tongues and grasping fingers. Wedge yielded first, once Bodhi got his uniform jacket open, giving up his grip to shrug his shoulders and help Bodhi slide it off. Bodhi didn't give him the chance to wrest command back. Tie, shirt, and undershirt quickly followed, then he grabbed and pulled until he backed Wedge up to the couch, then flipped him around and pushed him down. 

Wedge tripped over into a kneel, knees on the couch cushion, hands braced along the back. Bodhi slotted in behind him, achingly hard as he pressed against Wedge's still-clothed ass. He laid a line of bruising kisses along the line of Wedge's shoulder, enjoying the soft groans he drew from Wedge. Bodhi traced his fingers down the center of Wedge's chest, eliciting shivers, and then a jolt as he found and undid the clasp of Wedge’s belt. 

"If you've got any objections to the way this is going," Bodhi said as he shoved Wedge's pants and underwear down, "now's your chance to say so." 

"Told you," Wedge said, pressing backwards to grind against Bodhi, "I'm not going anywhere. So put your money where your mouth is and fuck me already." 

Bodhi pulled back and slapped Wedge's bare ass, satisfied when he drew a shaky gasp from Wedge. Bodhi leaned over and opened the couch's end table, leaving one hand on Wedge's hip as he grabbed for the lube and condoms. 

"Of course you have lube in your living room," Wedge said, in a condescending tone of voice that earned his ass another smack before Bodhi ripped the package open. 

All the jittery anticipation of the last two weeks found its outlet as Bodhi slid into Wedge. He was too tightly wound to be gentle, fucking Wedge hard with short brutal strokes. Wedge grunted in satisfaction, and rocked in counterpoint to Bodhi, driving back as Bodhi thrust forward, so their skin slapped together every time they met. Bodhi hissed in satisfaction intensity, each hit a catharsis for the anxiety he had been carrying. 

He curled his fingers around Wedge's hips and fucked his fear out, until all that was left was the certainty that Wedge was his, and this was right. 

"You don't get the same deal," Bodhi growled as he reached down to wrap his hand around Wedge's cock. "I don't care who else you find, you're mine. You understand?" he asked, as he pumped the shaft. "Mine." 

Wedge gasped and turned to look at Bodhi. Bodhi felt his pace stutter as he was caught by Wedge's eyes. All the bravado, all the teasing was gone, and there was nothing but sincerity when Wedge replied, "Yours. I'm yours."

Bodhi gasped as his orgasm took him, he crashed one last time into Wedge and came deep inside him. Like some fucking storybook, Wedge shuddered came with a gasp, practically in unison. Bodhi tucked his forehead against the back of Wedge's neck and rode through the waves of pleasure, holding Wedge tight. 

After a moment, Wedge sofly laughed underneath him, his stomach contracting against Bodhi's hands. He stretched and shifted, wiggling a little more securely against Bodhi. "I should make you angry more often." 

"Mmm," Bodhi hummed, his lips pressed against Wedge's skin. He kissed and then pulled back. "If it's always followed by sex this good, I can't say I argue with you."

They gradually got themselves straightened and tucked into the shower, Wedge happily languid under the water as Bodhi scrubbed his back. Bodhi fought with a complicated feeling of pride mixed with shame as he ran the washcloth over the purpling line of love marks he had left along Wedge's shoulder. He normally prided himself on his lack of jealousy. This seemed...pretty much the opposite. 

"Sorry. Got a little…possessive there. Claiming isn't usually my bag. Sorry if I went too far." 

"Green," Wedge said after a moment, turning to look at Bodhi. He reached up and cupped a hand against Bodhi's cheek. "I liked it." 

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Bodhi confessed. 

Wedge gave a lopsided smile. "Who does, really?" His thumb traced along the apple of Bodhi's cheek. "I know this is unusual for you. I'll let you know if you start getting too clingy. Though, unless you start breaking into my house to steal my socks for a shrine or something, I find that to be really unlikely." 

Bodhi snorted. "B&E is not romantic. Got it. I'm taking notes." 

"Also no shrines," Wedge added seriously.

"Aw, just a little shrine?" 

Wedge shook his head with a little laugh. "It's about the intention, more than the size." 

Bodhi gave a serious nod. "Understood." 

Once they were clean and emerged from the shower, Wedge wiped the steam away from the mirror and gave a surprised grunt, tracing his index finger over the line of marks. 

"Still like it?" Bodhi asked, still feeling a little embarrassed at how obviously he had been marking Wedge. 

"Yeah," Wedge said, an odd note in his voice as he dropped his hand. "But not above uniform lines. I need to maintain some respectability." 

"Seems reasonable," Bodhi said, reaching forward and tracing his own fingers along the line that Wedge had drawn. "I can be careful." 

He would be. Maybe this was all easier than he had expected, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be careful. Wouldn't do things right. Wedge was his, and he was Wedge's, and that was really special. 

Bodhi leaned in and kissed Wedge's shoulder, gently this time. Monogamy. The word still gave him hives. But he had to admit, there was something really wonderful about Wedge, grumpy, sharp, magnificent Wedge being his, and his alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anxiety cookies! Houseplants! Commitment! Cathartic rough sex! We've got it all! 
> 
> I think this has been one of my favorite chapters. Figuring out how Wedge and Bodhi had this conversation has been something I've been trying to do since I started writing, and there's something very satisfying about finally posting it!


	28. Pessimism, Optimism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge is in Helsinki, and Luke is on the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's it going, everyone? I'm still alive over here, and very happy to be posting a new chapter! I've missed y'all :)

Wedge shaded his eyes from the sun, as Helsinki's early-autumn sun set behind the city's buildings. As night rolled in it'd get too cold to walk, and Wedge was determined to enjoy the city streets while he could. 

"It's been ages since I've been here. I forgot how interesting the architecture was," Wedge admitted.

"A distinct lack of mountains to hike, if I'm remembering right," Luke said, with an affectionate little tease in his voice. "No wonder you keep swapping it out for other destinations." 

"You might be right," Wedge said, stopping for a moment to take in the gold-tipped spires of the cathedral up the hill. "But I don't think you called to critique my choice of cities." 

"Yeah, just had…something to run by you, if you have a minute." 

"Always. What's going on?" 

"Dodonna pulled me into his office for a quick chat." 

"Good chat or bad chat?" Jan Dodonna, from what Wedge remembered, was the sort of manager that resolved all his personnel issues with a quick chat. Being cornered by him could be anything from a raise to probation pending termination. 

"Good, I think. The airline's opening up a couple more TRE slots. He wants me to go for one of them." 

"You should," Wedge said quickly, not needing to think about it. "I've been saying for years you'd be good at it. Someone like you is exactly who any competent airline would want training their trainers. I know you're happy with where you're at but—"

"No, I actually, I think I might apply this time," Luke said, gently cutting Wedge off.

"Oh good," Wedge said, his voice brightening. "The last two times they pitched this to you it was a pretty firm no. What changed?"

"Well, my husband died," Luke said, the words desert-dry and a little bitter. 

"I…yeah," Wedge said, feeling that choking sense of helplessness that came up whenever Luke got like this. Wedge was usually the one being pulled out of a black mood, he felt totally unequipped to do the pulling. 

"Sorry, that was mean," Luke said with a sigh. "But I was thinking about it. We're heading into the Bad Months here soon, and it might be nice to have a goal to take my mind off of things. And…" Luke went quiet, and Wedge could hear the hitch in his throat when he continued, "...it might be time to do some growing. Moving on." 

Wedge wished this conversation wasn't happening long distance. He'd have liked to give Luke a hug. "I really do think you'll be great at it, whatever your reason," Wedge said, instead. 

"Thanks," said Luke, and he sounded sincere. After a moment of silence, Luke spoke again, his voice carrying a certain forced cheer, "How are things going with you?" 

"Chief piloting is chief piloting. I'm not flying as much as I'd like. I think…there's been talks about pilots not being happy with the current contract negotiations are going. It's not great to be in the middle of, if I'm being honest."

"Pressures of leadership," Luke said sympathetically. 

"I did sign up for it. Aside from that…" Wedge couldn't help the short laugh that slipped out of him. "Well, I was going to tell you about me and Bodhi, but I think you probably know more than I do." 

"I know more than I want to," Luke said, with an affectionate sort of dismay. "I think you should probably be aware that Bodhi is taking the permission you gave him during the doughnut discussion to tell me anything very literally."

Wedge had to choke down a small chuckle as he imagined Luke looking increasingly uncomfortable as Bodhi shared and overshared. "I thought he might." 

Luke pressed, his voice going gentle, "I can ask him to stop. Just because I know both of you doesn't mean…you deserve your privacy."

"I really don't mind it. You know, he seemed—" A cold wind knifed through the boulevard Wedge was walking down, and he shivered and drew his jacket a little closer together. "Sorry, windy out."

"Maybe you should get somewhere warm. He seemed…?"

Wedge could see the reason in that, and turned himself back toward the hotel and started walking. "Exclusivity. It seemed like it was a hard thing for him to ask for. Knowing him, he needs to talk things through with someone or he'll start tearing himself up. Of everyone he could talk to, I'm glad it's you."

Luke huffed a chuckle. "You know him pretty well," Luke said. 

Wedge could feel his shoulders curl in on himself, a defensive gesture that had little to do with the wind. "I don't know about that. There's a lot I don't understand. Like why he wants to be exclusive for a bit in the first place."

"For a bit?" Luke said, his tone curling up in a question. "Did he time limit it?" 

Wedge swallowed. "No. But I know…"

"You assume—" Luke responded, starting to sound irritated. 

"People don't just change," Wedge blurted out, his voice louder and more plaintive than he had intended. He pressed his lips together and started walking faster, partly to get away from the curious stares of the bystanders, and partly because he was filled with this jittery energy that needed an outlet. "Look I get it, Luke, I know this isn't how he normally does things."

"Wedge, don't sabotage—" 

"I'm not sabotaging," Wedge replied, turning a corner in a sharp pivot. The lines of his hotel became visible at the end of the street. "I'm flattered." 

"Flattered." Luke didn't sound impressed.

"I don't take it for granted, he obviously cares about me and likes me enough to want something more. But change is hard and breaking habits are hard and eventually the shine is going to wear off of the novelty of having someone exclusive. And I'm okay with it, really." 

"Bullshit," Luke said. "Just because Orman—" 

"This isn't about Orman!" Wedge snarled, louder than he had intended to. He stopped dead on the sidewalk and took a slow, deep breath. "I think you're misunderstanding the point of what I'm trying to say," Wedge said, each word coming out with clipped precision. 

"And what is that? Luke asked, sounding exhausted. 

"That when Bodhi changes his mind—" 

"If," Luke said firmly. "God damn it, I love you both and I won't stay on the line and listen to you disrespect him. You don't know what he's thinking for certain, so you will use the word, 'if.'" 

It wasn't disrespect, Wedge wanted to protest. Wedge just…knew. He wasn't the sort of person that people stuck around for. It was certain. But that would derail the conversation he was trying to have, if Luke would ever let him fucking get through it. 

"Okay," Wedge said, with tooth gritting patience. "The whole point is that if Bodhi changes his mind, I know he's _not_ Orman. It's not him being a bastard. I'm trying to let you know that wh…_if_ this ends, it won't end badly." 

Luke was quiet for a long time. Wedge gave him space to think, turning his face toward the darkening sky. It was getting uncomfortably cold, but right now, Wedge found it clarifying. 

"I'm glad you know he's not the Bastard," Luke finally said, still sounding unsettled. "But I think you're letting your cynical side win. If there's ever a time to let the optimist win, it's in romance." 

Wedge gave a soft chuckle. "In my experience, that would be misreading the indicators." 

"Bodhi's different," Luke insisted. 

"He is," Wedge agreed. "It doesn't change the fact that I don't understand why he's giving me this. I didn't demand it. I didn't even ask. I'm taking it like a gift. Enjoying it day to day, and if he decides to take it back, I'll be grateful for the time I had with it."

"If you're expecting it to be taken back—that's not a gift, it's a loan," Luke said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I have to admit, I don't know what changed for him either. But this isn't a sudden thing, Wedge. He's different with you." 

"Different isn't always good."

"Such a fucking pessimest," Luke drawled, the affection in his tone taking out the worst of the bite. "This different is good. Find your optimist, listen to him." 

"You're my optimist," Wedge said, infusing his tone with saccharine sarcasm.

"So listen to me," Luke said, and Wedge could just see his smile. "Bodhi really, really likes you. Don't underestimate that." 

"Alright," Wedge agreed. "I'll…keep using 'if.'" 

"Good," Luke said. 

"As long as you actually go for the TRE slot. You'd be brilliant." 

"... Deal. I'm calling you to bitch about coursework if it's giving me a headache." 

"Perfect," Wedge said. After a beat, he added, "Thanks." 

"For?" 

"Just…being you. Dealing with me." 

"Goes both ways," Luke replied. 

"Good. Call Dodonna." 

"I will. Stop sabotaging yourself." 

"I will…try," Wedge allowed. 

"Guess that's all I can really ask for. Okay, Leia and I have Sibling Brunch in an hour, I'd better make sure I'm not late. Good talking with you, enjoy Helsinki." 

"Send Leia my love and eat an omelette in my name." 

"Will do." 

Once the line went quiet, Wedge tucked his phone hand (now very cold) back in his pocket, and shivered as he stared at the front of his hotel. He still didn't think he was sabotaging himself. This thing would go however it would go, and Wedge was probably going to get his heart broken. 

That didn't mean that this thrilling, unbelievable moment together wasn't worth it. And knowing himself, that was practically optimistic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Wedge. Ever the pessimist. 
> 
> We're well into the summer in my hemisphere, and rereading the icy cold winds before posting this chapter was almost nostalgic. Almost. I wouldn't trade heat for cold, but it would be nice, like the gents, to have the option of relocating when I get sick of a climate. :D 
> 
> How's this summer/winter (do I have southern hemisphere readers? Not sure) weather been for you all? Hope you haven't been too hot/cold.


	29. Winter Picnics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Luke toasted Dak's gravestone. "I declare the fourth annual I-Miss-Dak picnic commenced_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small warning, this chapter deals more with grief and loss than recent chapters have. It's nothing that hasn't shown up in the fic before, but please be kind to yourself. If that means skipping this chapter for right now, I approve, and I'll see you soon.

Luke unfurled the red and white checked blanket out with a dramatic snap, and Leia caught the other end of it in her gloved hands. Little clouds of cold breath bloomed from her lips as she helped him get it settled on the neat grass in front of Dak's grave. 

"It's cold as an ice road trucker's balls," Leia announced as she grabbed at the thermos in the bag she had brought and started unscrewing it. 

"You've been around Han too long," Luke said, raising an eyebrow at her as he started reaching for his own basket. 

Leia graced him with a wry smile. "Fine." She raised her chin and said in her finest prim tones, "Cold as an enthusiastic New England audience." 

"Insulting the weather and your constituents at the same time? Impressive." Luke accepted the mug of something hot, appley, and alcoholic with a grateful smile.

He turned, and toasted Dak's gravestone. "I declare the fourth annual I-Miss-Dak picnic commenced." 

"Here here," Leia said with a little shiver. 

Luke sighed a little and glanced over at her. "How many more years do you think I'm going to be able to convince you to keep me company for a picnic in December?" 

"As many as you need," Leia answered quickly. "Decades from now, we can escape from the nursing home together and roll up the street to hang out with Dak for a bit."

"Thank you," Luke said softly, pressing his shoulder against hers. 

"You remember the first time you ditched me and went to hang out with Dak instead of going to Sibling Brunch?" Leia asked, tucking in next to Luke insistently until he put his arm around her. 

"I thought you were going to murder me," Luke said, laughing a little. "You held it over my head every week for the next year and four months. Never bothered Dak about it, though. That always seemed unfair to me."

"That's because when Dak found out he wrote me a handwritten letter to apologize," Leia said. Shifting to address the gravestone, she continued, "Even if it was born out of sheer terror, it was a nice gesture. I always appreciated it."

"Clever, love." Luke smiled at the gravestone. "I should have thought of that. But you always were the smart one. At least once Han showed up Leia ditched me in return, and I finally had some return ammunition." 

"It was not the same situation!" Leia protested. "His car ran out of gas in the middle of Rhode Island! In no way, shape, or form is that my fault." 

"Oh god, please tell me they aren't arguing about this one again, Dak," Han said as he came up and gave the gravestone an affectionate slap, before collapsing in an undignified heap on Luke's other side. "It never goes well for me."

"Well, you should have filled your car up with gas," Leia said primly, reaching out a gloved hand to Han.

"It was almost two decades ago," Han groused, as he took her hand and kissed its gloved back. 

Luke was stabbed with the sudden realization of just how long Dak had been in his life. Four years dating, ten years married. Dak had seen him from teenager to young adult to established professional. And then he'd died. 

Four years dating, ten years married, four years gone. Luke reached up to wipe off the tear rolling down his cheek, already threatening to freeze. 

Leia turned and laid a kiss against Luke's cheek, unphased as she continued, "Dak was so happy when my troublemaking husband—"

"Hey," came Han's reflexive protest. 

"—came into our lives. Made coming along to Sibling Brunch less awkward. Admit it," she said, reaching out her foot and tapping the headstone with the toe of her boot, "You just wanted to hang out with the cooler twin." 

"I'm not sure that was it," Luke said. "I think you just genuinely liked Han, for reasons unknown to me."

"Hey," Han said again, higher-pitched this time. He fixed his gaze over Luke's shoulder with evident relief. "Oh, thank fuck, it's Bo. Bo save me, they're picking on me again." 

Luke twisted to see Bodhi coming up the hill with Jyn and Cassian. Bodhi gave a wave, as he called back, "You probably deserve it." 

"That's beside the point," Han retorted as Bodhi, Cassian, and Jyn all settled around on the blanket. "Heya, Jyn, Cass, it's been too long." 

"It has," Cassian started. 

"So, do you just not like names with multiple syllables, because you're lazy, or what?" Jyn asked, cutting him off. 

"We should invite you both over dinner," Cassian finished doggedly. "It'd be nice to see you more often." 

"Well, Cassian, Jynsanthiancalmira," Han said, drawling over every syllable, "We'd love that." 

"I'm surrounded by mean people," Luke said mournfully in Dak's general direction. "Why does this keep happening to me." 

"Because you're a bastard," Bodhi said quickly, and was almost immediately met with a chorus of protests from everyone on the blanket except Leia. "He is!" Bodhi protested, curling away from where Han was halfheartedly trying to cuff him around the shoulder. "Nobody believes me but he is!" 

"You kinda are," Leia said in a low undertone. 

"I know," Luke answered. "But I'm good at hiding it." 

He and Leia shared a small fistbump. 

Luke felt the shape of Dak's response, that he was surrounded by mean people because he loved them, in all their various and sundry levels of snark. 

_'You love being around drama, admit it,' Dak had said one night, offering Luke a glass of whisky on the rocks as Luke bitched about Han and Leia's latest row. 'Otherwise everyone would figure out what a disaster you are, too. You shouldn't have married me, handsome. I'm the only one in your life that makes you look bad.'_

Luke smiled, fighting back tears. They were happy tears, this time. He had been lucky to have been loved so well. He was still lucky. He had lost Dak, but there were still so many people that loved him. Loved him enough to come outside in a New York winter and drink hot cider with him as he mourned his husband. 

They sat and shared stories. Han shared about a roadtrip to an upstate New York farm for apple cider doughnuts that Dak had suckered him into one bright October morning when Luke was somewhere over the Atlantic and Leia neck-deep in legislation. Bodhi, Jyn, Cassian, and Luke jointly laughed their way through remembering a disastrous evening where they had tried to take a very reluctant Dak out clubbing. 

"Oh god," Leia gasped, leaning black and blinking so her giggling tears wouldn't fall out of her eyes. "Dak was the textbook definition of an introvert, why did you think that was a good idea?" 

"He'd been saying for years he wanted to try it! We were with friends! What could go wrong, I figured?" Luke said, shaking his head. "I got worried when I lost track of him after the whole thing with the leis, I couldn't believe it when I found him outside with the smokers. He was, I swear, doing a reading out of that battered book of Pedro Pietri poems he always carried with him."

Dak had stood in the center of a streetlight spotlight, the necklace of white flowers he had tried to avoid still around his neck. He looked like some urban religious figure in his pool of light, his congregants a crowd of tipsy clubgoers. He held his book and read poetry with the earnest gravitas of liturgy. His swaying audience hung in a loose half-circle around him, murmuring, transfixed in the way only the drunk or devout could be. 

Dak had looked up and smiled, a self-aware curl of his lips, but hadn't missed a beat, spinning out poetry with all the confidence that had been nowhere to be found clinging awkwardly to Luke in the center of the dance floor. Luke had watched him, and loved him all over again, and kissed him when the poem ended, and taken him home. 

The stories continued a little longer, but eventually people started discretely shivering. Luke felt like Dak had been celebrated well enough, and didn't need anyone to get hypothermic on his behalf. He clapped his hand and declared the picnic concluded, and gave hugs and thanked everyone for coming. 

As they packed up, Bodhi sidled over to Luke and asked, "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" 

"Going home, petting Gup, studying for the TRE skill test," Luke answered as he folded the picnic blanket over his arm. 

"Need any company? We," Bodhi gestured over at Jyn and Cassian, "were planning on spending the evening trying to turn Jeopardy into a drinking game. It's a terrible idea. Want to join?" 

"With a pitch like that…" Luke trailed off, raising his eyebrows. Then he shook his head. "Thank you, but no. If I get lonely, I'll give Ezra a call." 

"Oh," Bodhi said, an odd note to his voice. "Ezra's in town?" He glanced around at where everyone had been sitting a moment ago, a frown pulling down one corner of his mouth.

"I didn't invite him," Luke said, not liking the expression on Bodhi's face. He quickly added, feeling defensive, "He didn't really know Dak. It would have been awkward." 

"Yeah, I guess I can see that," Bodhi said, his voice neutral. After a second he straightened up, waving his hand like he was clearing something away. "Well, either way, the Drunk Jeopardy invitation stands. Just in case you need something…less romantic."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Luke said. He was grateful Bodhi had decided against poking any further. He wasn't entirely sure himself why he hadn't asked Ezra to come along. It just didn't feel right.

Luke went home, and his house felt empty. It didn't usually, these days. But right now Dak's memory was closer to the surface, and Luke just wanted Dak back in his space. No, what he really wanted was for it to be __their_ _space again.

He thought about inviting Ezra over, and it still just...felt wrong. He knew that Dak wanted Luke to find comfort where he could. But having Ezra around didn't feel like comfort right now. It felt like—like failure. It wasn't that Ezra didn't understand Luke's grief, but Luke got the feeling sometimes that Ezra saw Luke's pain as a problem to be solved with his presence. 

Right now, Luke wanted to feel his sadness. He didn't want it fixed.

"Sorry," Luke said to the twin photos of him and Dak smiling through both of their weddings, as he pulled the necklace with their rings out from his shirt collar, "I'm just having a hard time right now."

Luke pulled his ring off his necklace and slid it back on his finger. It slid on easily, settling over the thin band of skin that was still a little paler than the rest of his hand. He held it up toward the window, letting the light trace over his fingers, catching on the small diamonds in the band.

"I know you didn't want me married to a ghost, but you know I'm always going to love you," Luke said to that sense of Dak that hung in their living room, the imprint of their years spent together.

_Of course_, Luke could almost hear Dak answer, as Luke watched the ring cast pinpricks of light around the room. Luke pulled his hand back to his chest, cradling his hand near his heart. 

Luke would always be the person that loved Dak. It was too fundamental to who he was, it was in the core of him that he couldn't change—that he never wanted to change. Dak was far from his life's only joy. Luke was blessed with so much joy: his people, his flying, his hot chocolate, his cat. The things he loved, great and small. But none of them had managed to shape his life quite like Dak had. He and Dak were foundational to each other. Today, of all days, he would take some time to honor that. 

Luke stood in the light of the window, took a deep breath, and let his joy and his grief move through him, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Luke. Part of the reason this one took so long to post is because nailing the ending of this chapter was a struggle. Such a complicated balance of emotions. 
> 
> And hi, the readers! I've missed you! I'm sorry for going quiet recently. But, well, you know (gestures). I'm not too surprised that writing has slowed down. This fic remains a happy place for me, though, and a big part of that is because I share it with all of you. (blows internet kisses to you all)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Enjoying the fic? [Here's a fancy graphic to look at and share!](https://sassysnowperson.tumblr.com/post/187381904711/arrivals-departures-connections-read-from)
> 
> Also, the fabulous [drinkupthesunrise](http://drinkupthesunrise.tumblr.com/) has made some beautiful [art of Wedge and Luke in Wedge's garden.](https://drinkupthesunrise.tumblr.com/post/187865476511/arrivals-departures-connections-by)


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